


The Wall Street Cops

by Spatialist



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crime, Detective AU, M/M, Multi, Regretfully Haru does not strip as often as he should in this story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:38:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spatialist/pseuds/Spatialist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Inspector Haruka Nanase is, as his assistant Nagisa likes to say, "all work and no play". But it's hard to be cheerful when there are crimes to solve and dangerous criminals to chase. </p><p>When an infamous serial killer resurfaces and the case lands in Haruka's division, he's forced to take on the help of Private Investigator Makoto Tachibana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you can’t tell already, I really like that damn swimming anime. This is a Detective AU. That’s all.
> 
> Edit: I posted this on Fanfiction.net first, and at the suggestion of a reader I decided to put it up on AO3 as well : )
> 
> I've been working on it for a while now, so you guys get all five chapters at once, yay!

The minute Constable Miho Amakata burst into the cramped office on the fifth floor, section 2W, Haru was already pulling his coat over his shoulders and packing up his grilled mackerel breakfast to go with his ‘there’s-a-big-case-about-to-bust-through-my-door senses’ tingling.

 

“Ama-chan!” Nagisa yelped, leaping up from his chair. “What’s the matter?”

 

“Sasabe-kun just called it in,” Amakata gasped, leaning against the door for support. Her eyes were wide and her hair was wild as she added, “It’s the Pirate. He’s struck again.”

 

+

 

The filthy old alleyway behind the subway station on 7th Street was roped off by several winding strips of neon yellow tape, guarded by four officers on duty and had caught the attention of at least half the city within ten minutes. Haru scowled as he parked haphazardly next to a police cruiser, his stomach already mourning the delay of his breakfast.

 

“Way to be discreet about this whole thing,” he muttered as Nagisa practically bounded out of the car, his badge, notebook, thermos and jacket flying everywhere.

 

“This looks big, Haru-chan!” he cried. “Look at all those reporters hanging around.”

 

“Don’t talk to them,” Haru warned as he latched onto the back of Nagisa’s shirt and yanked his assistant along. The media crews spotted him instantly— it’s hard no to, give the fact that Haru’s somewhat of a celebrity around this city— but before the reporters could pounce him like rabid dogs they’re blocked off by a tall officer with red-framed glasses.

 

“Rei-chan!” Nagisa beamed, waving to the young officer. “Good morning, Rei-chan!”

 

“Nagisa-kun,” Rei greeted, stumbling over his words just a little bit as he tried to fend off a particularly determined journalist.

 

“My hero, Rei-chan! Keep those reporters off me!” Nagisa beamed, arranging his arms into some power ranger pose before blowing a kiss in the officer’s direction. Haru rolled his eyes as Rei flushed a bright pink and nearly got run over by two photographers.

 

“Stop flirting at work,” he said crossly, and Nagisa pouted.

 

“Aww, Haru-chan, don’t be mean! It’s been a while since I’ve seen Rei-chan! I miss him!”

 

“Then do everybody a favour and ask him out already,” Haru sighed as the two of them descended down the steps to access the back door leading out the alley. “God knows he’s too shy to ask you.”

 

“But Rei-chan’s always at the station,” Nagisa sighed sadly. “And you never give me time off. You’re cockblocking us, you know.”

 

“I hired you to help me solve cases, not to hit on the patrol officers,” Haru grumbled. The narrow backstreet stank of stale cigarette smoke, moldy plaster and something awfully rotten. Two officers were standing guard by a dark lump on the ground, one of whom Haru recognized.

 

“Mikoshiba-san,” he greeted as he walked up to the red-haired sergeant.

 

“Nanase-san,” Mikoshiba said grimly. “You’re just in time. Forensics isn’t here just yet, so take your time with the body.”

 

“Right,” Haru murmured, as he crouched down, Nagisa immediately whipping out a pen and notebook to take notes.

 

The victim was a young man in his late teens with a short, bob-like style of hair and a smooth, pale face. He was wearing a heavy coat in the chilly autumn weather, but underneath Haru could spy a pressed but dirty white shirt, dry-cleaned silk tie and a designer waistcoat.

 

“Have we got any ID?” Nagisa asked.

 

“We picked up a wallet a couple of feet away,” Mikoshiba said, lifting a plastic bag. “He’s Aiichiro Nitori.”

 

“That’s Kaname Nitori’s son,” Haru frowned, pulling his pen out of his pocket to poke at the victim’s coat. “The owner of the East Asia Banking Group.”

 

“That rich daddy’s boy?” Mikoshiba asked, surprised, as Nagisa made a note. “I didn’t recognize him.”

 

“The body’s been moved,” Haru continued as though he hadn’t heard; there was a very important case at hand if what Amakata said this morning was true, they were going to have a lot of trouble on their hands. “Nitori’s hair and the collar of the coat is damp, but it hasn’t rained for the past three days. I’m seeing a bruise on the back of his neck as well, probably sustained from a very heavy blow that would’ve knocked him unconscious. And—”

 

“What? What is it?”

 

“His hand,” Haru said softly, lifting the corner of Nitori’s coat for a better view. “His hand’s missing.”

 

Where Nitori’s right hand once would’ve been, there was nothing but a stump with blood crusted along the wrist. A horrifyingly large fishing hook was stuck into the flesh like Captain Hook’s infamous namesake. Mikoshiba made an alarmed noise in the back of his throat as Nagisa gasped and clapped his hands over his mouth.

 

“Haru-chan— is that— that is— he’s _back_?”

 

“Who’s back?” Mikoshiba demanded.

 

“The Pirate,” Haru said quietly. “The hook’s his trademark. Search Nitori’s belongings,” he added, standing up. “He’ll be missing his credit cards, cash, and any accessories of value, like a watch or a gold pen. Trace his bank accounts as soon as possible because I guarantee you the Pirate would’ve been there to empty out all the money already. Let’s go, Nagisa.”

 

“Hai, Haru-chan!” the blond said smartly, falling in step behind the DI as the two of them swept back out of the alleyway. A larger crowd had gathered now and several more officers were assigned to crowd control, causing Nagisa to sulk when Rei was too busy to notice their departure. As Haru dug out his car keys and unlocked the door, he managed to catch snippets of what the reporters live on scene were saying.

 

“Breaking news from the 7th Street subway station—”

 

“A body has just been found—”

 

“—this horrific murder of a young man—”

 

“—are rumored to be the works of a serial killer!”

 

“—and it appears that Detective Inspector Haruka Nanase will be leaving retirement and taking on the case! More from 7th Street in a minute, back to you, Nishimura-san!”

 

“Haru-chan?” Nagisa called from the passenger seat. “Haru-chan, are you okay?”

 

— _the sound of guns, the red hot pain in his lower abdomen—_

_“Oi! Nanase! Keep your eyes open Nanase! You’re going to be okay! Help! Somebody get help!”_

_—his vision swimming, his breaths uneven—_

 

Haru blinked, and then looked down at his assistant.

 

“I’m fine,” he replied shortly, and then got into the car. “Time to head back to the office for the case review.”

 

“So you’re really going to take the case?” Nagisa asked, eyes wide and full of excitement. The blond often said that Haru was “all work and no play”, but between them, Nagisa’s enthusiasm for his job was more than enough to make up for any lack of expression in the whole workforce.

 

“Yes, I am,” Haru sighed, turning the keys in the ignition. “It’s time to go fishing.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s kinda stupid that my inspiration for this fic is a fanart that I mistakenly took for Makoto/Haru when it was in fact Makoto/Rei.
> 
> Rei wears frickin glasses how did I even miss that get your shit together Laurie.
> 
> With that being said.

It took the better half of the morning for them to dig up the old case files, but after a lot of dust and a lot of physical movement the entirety of the documents regarding the infamous serial killer known only as ‘the Pirate’ were now piled high in Haru’s cramped office. He was already flipping through some of the papers when Nagisa staggered in with the last box in his arm and nearly crashed into the desk.

 

“Haru-channn,” Nagisa whined, dropping the box carelessly. “I’m too cute for manual labour!”

 

“You’re a cop, for goodness’ sake,” Haru sighed exasperatedly. “When was the last time you did a fitness exam?”

 

“Cute boys don’t have to,” Nagisa winked, grinning cheekily. Haru rolled his eyes.

 

“You say you’re cute but you still haven’t scored a date. In fact, I’d say your cuteness is actually _intimidating_ Rei.”

 

“It is not!” Nagisa cried, horrified. “You’re the one who sets up impossible work hours that keep me from finding time to date Rei-chan, you slave driver!”

 

“Yeah, well, given the fact that we’ve got this case on our hands now, I can guarantee you won’t make it to a date anytime soon,” Haru shot back. “Now get back to work; your cuteness may have convinced the examiner to forge your results but it doesn’t work on me, got it?”

 

Nagisa pouted again, but he dutifully cracked open one of the sagging boxes. This was the police department’s entire collection on the most dangerous serial killer that ever walked the streets, and while they did have a wealth of information regarding the Pirate, it was mostly due to the fact that he’d killed and killed and the authorities had never managed to catch him.

 

“You know, it’s been ages since you took on a big case,” Nagisa sighed happily. “We can finally get to see some action!”

 

“I’ve seen more than enough,” Haru muttered darkly. “What on earth is he doing coming back into the spotlight anyway?”

 

“Maybe he got bored of waiting around?” Nagisa suggested. “But normal people probably wouldn’t go around murdering people for fun, I guess.”

 

“You don’t say.”

 

A knock on the door interrupted Nagisa’s high-pitched whine, and Amakata popped her head in a second later.

 

“Haru-kun, Nagisa-kun, Sasabe wants to talk to you two!”

 

“I’m busy,” Haru shot back without looking up and Amakata made a noise of despair.

 

“You’re so mean, Haru! Don’t you dare ignore me or else the boss is going to have my head! Again!”

 

“C’mon, Haru-chan, you can look at all the gory pictures later!” Nagisa said matter-of-factly as he launched himself out of his chair. “Let’s go see what Sasabe wants!”

 

“He’s just going to send us to pick up pizza once he’s done talking,” Haru complained, digging his heels into the ground as Nagisa latched onto his wrist like a tapeworm and started dragging him down the hall. “Besides, you’re just hoping you catch sight of Rei at the main building.”

 

“Well, a man can dream, can’t he?” Nagisa demanded furiously, his cheeks rather pink. Haru smirked, but let up on his teasing. Nagisa could be a scary motherfucker when he wanted to be.

 

The Iwatobi City Police Department consisted of three buildings: a main building, a detaining/fitness building and the registry office, where the DI and his assistant were located. It faced a busy major intersection and had a decent parking lot that was currently brimming with journalists and reporters. Haru scowled as they made their way towards the main building using the footpaths.

 

“Where’s traffic control? I can spot at least eight parking violations already.”

 

“They’re just waiting for more people to show up,” Nagisa said cheerfully. “We make more money when we round ‘em up as a large group.”

 

“…right.”

 

Goro Sasabe was the young Commander of the law enforcement department with a star-shaped buzzcut, piercings, a ridiculous goatee and a love for wearing Hawaiian ties to go with his neat, pressed suits. He was the youngest person to ever be promoted to Commander in the Iwatobi district, had busted a crime ring in his years of service and was, most importantly, the one of the few people in the world who could drive Haru insane.

 

“About time you boys showed up!” Sasabe boomed, clapping Haru hard on the back. “Been a while since we got to hang out! If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were avoiding me!”

 

“I was,” Haru said bluntly as Sasabe nearly knocked Nagisa into the bookshelf with an over-enthusiastic hug.

 

“Aw, c’mon now, Haru, now you’re just hurtin’ my feelings,” Sasabe said, clutching at his chest. “When was the last time we all just sat down and had a good chat?”

 

“You know, for the Commander of the city’s only police force you’re rather laid back despite the fact that we’ve now got a serial killer on the loose.”

 

Sasabe sighed, slouching over his desk. “And you’re still mean, mean, mean, aren’t you, Haru?”

 

“Is there a point to this meeting?” Haru demanded. “Because if there isn’t I’m going to go back to work and—”

 

“Alright, alright, there is a very good reason why I called you here,” Sasabe said, looking suspiciously cheery. “Contrary to what you say I am quite aware that we have a very serious situation in the city. It’s been two years since we lost the trail and you, well—”

 

“Got shot,” Haru interrupted. “We’re all aware of that.”

 

“Right. So, you can probably understand that I wouldn’t want my best and brightest detective to venture out into the field unprotected, yeah?”

 

“Hey, I can protect Haru-chan!” Nagisa protested, puffing up his chest.

 

“I’m sure you can, Nagisa, but you’re still a rookie to the force, which is why we placed you Haru in the first place. He’s been doing deskwork since he bullied his therapist into letting him go back to his job.”

 

“Are you saying I’m not strong enough to defend Haru-chan?” Nagisa asked sweetly, starting to smile dangerously. Sasabe coughed.

 

“Well, put it this way, Nagisa, when was the last time you actually passed a fitness exam without charming the examiner?”

 

“Well, let _me_ put it this way, any examiner who’s failed me before doesn’t work at the task force anymore, y’get what I mean?”

 

“Guys,” Haru said waspishly. “Focus.”

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Sasabe said hastily. “So here I am, thinking, what can I do to make sure my precious Haruka doesn’t get hurt in the field? And then, bingo! I remembered one of my buddies in the Tokyo task force often consulted with this Private Investigator for help!”

 

“Sasabe,” Haru growled dangerously. “Tell me you didn’t.”

 

“So I rang this guy and hey! Guess what! He’s doesn’t have any pressing cases and is more than happy to pop down to Iwatobi to help us bring justice down upon the notorious serial killer who haunts our streets!”

 

“You brought an outsider in without consulting me?” Haru yelled. “You know I hate it when people butt into my cases!”

 

“But he’s not just _any_ PI,” Sasabe shot back. “He was a graduate of the Police Academy, you know. He’s got a lot of credentials and a lot of experience! Think about it, Haru! We need all the help we can get on this case!”

 

“Who is he? Is he cute?” Nagisa asked, bouncing up and down.

 

“Don’t encourage him!” Haru hissed. “We can handle this Sasabe, we don’t need help!”

 

“Or maybe you think you don’t need help,” the Commander challenged. “Haru, you know you’re not prepared to go out in the field like this.”

 

“What’s his name?!” Nagisa shouted impatiently.

 

“Nagisa—”

 

“Makoto Tachibana,” Sasabe revealed with flourish, and Haru felt the floor drop out from under him.

 

“What did you say?”

 

“That’s the PI. Tachibana. Did you know his contributions helped solved both the Natsume case and the Bohemian Ruby mystery? The man’s a genius!”

 

“Whao! That’s amazing! Haru-chan, did you hear that?”

 

“Makoto Tachibana?” Haru repeated softly, disbelief bubbling up in his gut alongside a slowly increasing panic. “ _You hired Makoto Tachibana?_ ”

 

“That’s what I said,” Sasabe huffed. “What, d’you know him or something?”

 

“Understatement of the year,” Haru muttered. “He is not touching my case.”

 

“Too late!” Sasabe shrugged. “He’s arriving the day after tomorrow; thought you ought to know.”

 

“The day after _tomorrow?!_ ”

 

“What’s with the ungrateful tone? I did give you two days’ warning!”

 

“You can’t just invite PI’s into the case!”

 

“I’m the Commander,” Sasabe said, planting his hands on his hips. “I can do what I like!”

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Haru groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I’m done. I’m going home, I want a hot shower and a mackerel salad for dinner.”

 

“Can I come over?” Nagisa asked hopefully.

 

“No.”

 

“Aw, Haru-chan!”

 

“Does this mean you’ve accepted your fate?” Sasabe asked hopefully. To his credit, he only shrunk back minutely when Haru leveled him with a glare that could freeze boiling water.

 

“We’re not finished. Consider yourself warned.”

 

“Riiiight. See you around two then.”

 

Huffing irritably, Haru stomped out of the room with Nagisa waddling happily along. If the world was going to be unfair and drop Makoto Tachibana back into his life, Haru wanted to be wide awake enough to witness the fiasco that would soon follow it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking the time to read!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who’s going to show up in this chapter? UuU

The shrill screech of the alarm pierced through the previously silent bedroom like a freight train going through the wall, jerking Haru out of his sleep. Groaning at the stiff pain in his neck, the detective fumbled for his phone, willing the noise to pipe down. A glance at the screen informed him that it was 7 o’clock in the morning, which meant, after a whole night of tossing and turning, he’d gotten about three hours of sleep in total. Making a pained noise of despair, Haru silenced his phone, dragged the blankets up to his chin and rolled over until he faced the wall.

 

Makoto was coming to Iwatobi.

 

He was going to be working with Makoto, after how many years since their last meeting.

 

Darned Sasabe and his meddling. Now all he wanted to do was to stay in bed; it felt like a weird day and his late grandmother had always told him to trust his instincts. His instincts were hardly ever wrong anyway; that’s how he was in the detective business to begin with.

 

The phone chirped, pulling Haru back from his thoughts. It was a text from Nagisa, as per usual.

 

_Rise and shine, Haru-chan! It’s time to go to work!_

 

Nagisa was, amongst other things, blessed with the ability to be happy even at ass o’clock in the morning, which was something that Haru was pretty sure 99% of the task force, including himself, was not capable of doing.

 

Grumbling loudly, he staggered out of bed. Shower first, breakfast after.

 

+

 

When he finally made it up to his office an hour later, reasonably more refreshed and with a cup of hot tea in hand, it’s to find his already tiny workspace infiltrated by Rei and Mikoshiba. Nagisa looked elated by the fact and was practically glued to a very flustered Rei’s side.

 

“What are you all doing?” he demanded.

 

“Haru-chan!” Nagisa shouted brightly, looking much too excited for somebody working on a murder case. “Look who dropped by for a visit!”

 

“Well, it’s not so much a casual visit as it is one of business,” Mikoshiba admitted. “We came to drop off the witness reports that were collected at the scene of the crime yesterday.”

 

“Did you check Nitori’s belongings and bank account like I asked?” Haru asked, shrugging his coat off.

 

“Yeah, we did, and you were right. There was a watch from his grandfather that was missing and his bank account had been emptied quite thoroughly. The withdrawals happened about half an hour after Nitori’s estimated time of death.”

 

“Right,” Haru muttered, taking the plain folder from Mikoshiba. “I think it’s safe to say that the Pirate’s back for good now.”

 

“Then we’re going to hunt him down and bring him to justice!” Nagisa exclaimed, pumping his fist into the air.

 

“Watch it!” Rei complained, trying to dislodge the blond.

 

“Aww, c’mon Rei-chan, this could be our only time to hang out! Haru-chan’s a meanie who always makes me work overtime!”

 

“Stop getting handsy in my office,” Haru said crossly. “Quit distracting my assistant, Rei.”

 

“W-what! But I’m not—”

 

“Ha ha, you really are as tough as the others say!” Mikoshiba laughed, slapping Haru on the back. A vein twitched rather violently in the detective’s temple.

 

“Everybody _out_! We have work to do!”

 

And so, everybody went to work. An angry Haru was a _scary_ Haru.

 

+

 

“Maa, maa, Haru-chan, let’s go for lunch,” Nagisa moaned, pulling at Haru’s sleeve. “It’s twelve o’clock already, c’mon.”

 

“Have you actually gotten any work done this past hour?” Haru mumbled. The reports from Mikoshiba were scattered across his desk along with photographs and the witness statements. The old bulletin board on the wall that had been previously empty save for an old picture and a couple of spare tacks was now covered from top to bottom with notes, photocopies and colour-coded pins. Nagisa had stuck up information about the Pirate’s previous victims next to the new information, hoping to expand their mind map.

 

Profilers had him marked down as a young man, in his mid-twenties, and very, very intelligent. It was rare that a serial killer would be so young; Haru was only twenty-six himself and he had zero inclinations to walk around killing people. The Pirate’s targets were, since his first kill, wealthy people. He murdered them, stole their money, left a clue, and then vanished without a trace.

 

But there hadn’t been a clue with Nitori, Haru realized. Most times there was always something on the victim that hinted towards where the Pirate would strike next, like the business card of the company the victim worked at. But there was nothing on the banker’s son. What was the Pirate doing this time?

 

“Ne, Haru-channn! Let’s eat!” Nagisa wailed, his voice pitching dangerously high. “I organized your bulletin board for you, didn’t you notice? C’mon, let’s goooo _oooo_!”

 

“Alright, alright, we’ll go eat,” Haru sighed exasperatedly, putting his pen down. He had to admit he was hungry as well, seeing as the rushed breakfast he’d made this morning after over-indulging in the shower hadn’t exactly been filling. Mostly, though, when Nagisa set his mind onto something nothing short of a natural disaster could make him change his it and his whining was rumored to be able shatter glass if you let it run long enough. Haru really didn’t want to confirm it.

 

“There’s a new all-you-can-eat around the corner,” Nagisa said excitedly as they took the elevator down. “We should totally try it out!”

 

“I’m trying to keep a budget here,” Haru complained.

 

“There’s _mackerel,_ ” Nagisa added slyly, and the detective paused.

 

“…fine.”

 

“Yes!” Nagisa shouted, as they walked across the parking lot. “We’re off! Gotta beat the afternoon rush!”

 

“You’re the only one in a rush here,” Haru mumbled, when the sound of somebody clearing their throat caught his attention. Turning around, he found a light-haired young man hovering nearby, a dark messenger by slung over his shoulder with a notepad and pen in hand.

 

“Excuse me? Are you Detective Inspector Haruka Nanase?”

 

“That’s me,” Haru said shortly. “Who’re you?”

 

“Ah, my name is Masutaro Asahara,” the man fumbled, giving a small smile. “I’m a journalist, I write for the Iwatobi Daily, and I was wondering if you could give me a few words about the situation surrounding the city? Are you really taking on the case of the recent murder of Kanama Nitori’s son?”

 

“No comment,” Haru replied rather bluntly. “There’s a press conference two days from now, ask your questions then.”

 

“Ah, alright,” Asahara said, looking a little despondent. “Hopefully I’ll see you there then, detective.”

 

“I’m sure you will,” Haru muttered, pulling the zipper of his coat up. Nagisa was standing a little ways away, looking curiously at the reporter.

 

“Who’s that?” he asked.

 

“Journalist,” Haru grunted. “Weren’t we supposed to grab lunch?”

 

That effectively rebuffed any further questions from the naturally inquisitive blond.

 

+

 

“I am _stuffed_ ,” Nagisa sighed happily, patting his rounded belly. “That was awesome!”

 

“I have never seen anybody eat so many slices of tuna in my whole life,” Haru deadpanned as the two of them grabbed their coats. “Where does all your food go anyway?”

 

“It’s a secret only cute boys would know,” Nagisa sniffed, turning his nose up. Trying not to roll his eyes, Haru fell into step with his colleague behind a group of schoolgirls exiting the restaurant at the same time.

 

“Hurry up, we’ve spent an hour and a half eating out already. I want to go back to the office.”

 

“Ehhhh?” Nagisa cried, his good mood deflating like a punctured balloon, but before the blond could say another word they were interrupted by a high-pitched shriek from one of the schoolgirls.

 

“Help! Somebody help, that man stole my bag!”

 

The thief was already racing down the street, his hoodie pulled up over his head and the girl’s grey school bag tucked under his arm. Pedestrians yelped as he shoved them aside, careless of who and what he stepped on. Haru instantly bolted after him.

 

“Haru-chan!” Nagisa shouted. “Be careful!”

 

The robber plunged recklessly onto the road, determined to get to the other side. A car swerved and Haru had to leap aside to avoid being hit. His muscles protested slightly, and the detective made a mental note to go to the gym more often. Racing across the street, he spotted the thief sprint towards the alleyway when suddenly, another man appeared from out of nowhere and rammed into the offending party, sending the two of them sprawling.

 

“Move it, trash!” the snatcher shouted, only to take a swift punch to the nose with a yell of pain. Aggravated, he tried to hit back, but the other man was quicker and had the thief pinned onto the ground within seconds. Haru’s eyes narrowed; that was a perfectly executed take down. There were people in the force who couldn’t even do a proper grab. Hurrying over, he dropped to his knees next to the struggling pair.

 

“Detective Inspector Haruka Nanase,” Haru said briskly, slapping a pair of handcuffs onto the robber. “Thank you for your help; I’ll take over from here. You have the right to remain silent,” he added to the now-dejected thief. “You have the right to an attorney, and if you do not have one someone will be provided for you. Anything you say can be used against you in the court of law, do you understand?”

 

“Yeah,” the thief mumbled.

 

“Good,” Haru muttered. “Nagisa! Call for backup!”

 

From the other side of the street, the blond waved his phone and hurried back to his call. What a day— he knew they shouldn’t have gone out for lunch.

 

“…Haru?”

 

The man who’d taken the thief down had spoken his name. His voice was smooth, almost warm to the ears, and Haru knew that voice. Moving his head jerkily, the detective mentally braced himself as he turned and faced the stranger.

 

Light brown hair hanging loosely around a slender face. Bright, expressive green eyes, usually soft around the edges.

 

It was Makoto.

 

There was no possible way Haru could possibly be _this_ unlucky.

 

“Makoto,” he said blankly.

 

“What are you doing here?” Makoto asked, looking stunned. He was much older than Haru remembered, though they had been only teenagers when they parted. His voice was noticeably deeper. His hair had grown a bit longer, and his previously thin frame had filled out with lithe muscle that made his shoulders broad and his forearms lean. The man before him was a mature adult now, and the years had been very good to Makoto.

 

“I’m working,” Haru spluttered. “Why are _you_ here?”

 

“I— I’m here for a job. I got hired to help solve a crime. I, uh, I work as a Private Investigator now, so, uh, yeah, that’s why I’m here—”

 

“I know,” Haru interrupted quietly, saving the PI from rambling on. “I’m the head of the case you were hired for.”

 

Makoto’s jaw dropped.

 

“You are?!”

 

“I am.”

 

If there was one thing that didn’t appeared to have changed, it was how easily Makoto displayed his emotions. Haru was certain he saw surprise, excitement, worry and nervousness play across the other man’s face in the span of a second.

 

“That’s… wow,” Makoto breathed. “What were the chances?”

 

Haru snorted as Nagisa came dashing across the street with the group of schoolgirls as the sounds of sirens alerted them of the police car pulling up.

 

“Haru-chan! Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Haru mumbled as everybody came to a halt around them. Two on-duty officers took the robber with them without any further complaints, the bag was retrieved, and everything was accounted for.

 

“Thank you very much!” the young girl said when Makoto handed her knapsack back. “I’m so sorry for all the trouble!”

 

“It’s alright,” Makoto said with a gentle smile, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Haru rolled his eyes as the girl blushed several shades of red and ducked her head shyly. His gut clenched reflexively, but he instantly pushed the feeling aside.

 

“Who’s that?” Nagisa asked curiously.

 

“That’s Makoto Tachibana,” Haru said. “Makoto, this is Nagisa Hazuki, my assistant.”

 

“So you’re the one who’s coming to help out!” Nagisa exclaimed as he enthusiastically shook Makoto’s hand. “You were so cool back there, the way you took down the thief!”

 

“Ah, well, I used to be a cop,” Makoto said sheepishly, not at all overwhelmed by Nagisa’s excitable nature. “I’m pretty sure I learned a thing or two.”

 

“You looked like Superman, taking down his enemy with a ker-chop! Ker-splat! And a _hoiiii-yah!_ ”

 

“I thought you were arriving a tomorrow,” Haru interrupted, starting to panic a little now that the initial shock of running into an old face had faded. What was Makoto doing in Iwatobi right now anyway?

 

“I came to move some of my things into the temporary flat I rented,” the brunet answered, scratching the back of his neck. “Then I went for a walk, to familiarize myself with the place. It’s a nice city.”

 

A silence fell over the two of them and Haru pulled at his tie, feeling very warm around the collar all of a sudden. Seeming to sense his unease, Makoto chuckled softly and said, “Well, I won’t keep the two of you! I’ll see you in the office tomorrow then?”

 

“Aw, are you leaving already?” Nagisa pouted, and Makoto laughed.

 

“Yeah, I have to finish unpacking. It was good catching up with you, Haru!”

 

“Sure,” Haru managed, and Makoto gave them a little wave before heading down the other end of the street, hands tucked into his jacket pockets. Nagisa turned to Haru, surprised.

 

“Catching up? What does he mean, Haru-chan? Do you guys know each other?”

 

“That’s irrelevant,” Haru replied reflexively, trying to calm his pounding heart.

 

He knew he should’ve stayed in bed today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s face it, Nagisa is probably one of those kids who eats a ton but never gains weight. Also, when my archery team went out for team dinner at our local sushi buffet my co-captain ordered twenty pieces of tuna on a whim.
> 
> We devoured them all, ho ho ho.
> 
> Also, I was re-watching episode 3, where Ama-chan was telling the team if they got more swimmers they could get a budget, and I’m literally crying with laughter at the face Haru makes when he comes to the conclusion that he could swim all the freaking time. It’s so hilarious I pee myself every time I watch that scene.
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Makoto’s finally here, but there’ll be more characters to introduce~

"My name is Makoto Tachibana. I’m a Private Investigator living and working in Samezuka City, but I was on a regular police force for five years. I’ve been doing a bit of freelance for a while now, but I still help the police out whenever I can. It’s a pleasure to meet everybody!”

 

He’s doing the wife smile again, Haru thought crossly to himself, watching as Nagisa, Rei, Mikoshiba and Amakata nearly swoon over the brunet’s sweet demeanor. It’d be easier to stay mad if Makoto weren’t actually such a gentle person in reality. He probably still fed stray kittens bits of canned tuna on his way home every day.

 

“And we’re all _very_ glad to have Makoto-san on our team, aren’t we?” Sasabe added, clapping the brunet on the back. There may have been a pointed look shot in Haru’s direction, but he pretended not to notice. Sasabe really ought to give him more credit; he was a professional, after all. Personal matters would barely influence anything.

 

“Right then,” the Commander said, clearing his throat. “I’ll trust you kids to play nice for the rest of the day, okay? Got things to do, cases to solve…” and then Sasabe was gone, waltzing back to his own office in the other building, and Makoto was instantly swamped by his brand new admirers.

 

“Waaa, you’re so cool, Mako-chan!” Nagisa said with shining eyes.

 

“Can you tell us about some cases you’ve solved?” Rei asked excitedly.

 

“Are you single?” Amakata demanded.

 

Mikoshiba let out a loud laugh and Makoto chuckled, scratching his cheek.

 

“Maa, I’m not that special, really.”

 

“Excuse me,” Haru interrupted. “I’m going to grab a photocopy of the case file and we’re going to get started when I get back, alright?”

 

His voice was even but his tone left no room for argument, which the others picked up quite easily even if they all ended up pouting and pulling puppy-eyes. Ignoring Nagisa’s patented sad face expression, he squeezed past Rei and Mikoshiba to exit the office.

 

“Ne, Haru-chan seems kinda wound up lately,” Amakata sighed. “I wonder if he’s sleeping enough?”

 

“He has been a little distant lately,” Nagisa mused. “Probably because he’s a meanie workaholic who likes to hog cases to himself!”

 

Makoto laughed at that, his eyes rather fond. “That sounds like something Haru would do.”

 

“Have you met before then?” Mikoshiba asked curiously, and the PI’s smile faltered ever so slightly.

 

“Er— we’ve met in the passing.”

 

“Really?!” Nagisa gasped. “Why didn’t Haru-chan mention anything?”

 

“I’m sure he’ll tell you in his own time,” Makoto said gently.

 

“That’s true,” Rei mused. “Haru-chan-san is a rather private person.”

 

“What did I say about adding - _chan_ and - _san_ to my name, megane cop?”

 

“Wah! Haru-chan, we didn’t even notice you!” Nagisa shrieked, clutching at his chest.

 

“How you passed the preliminary exams is still beyond me,” Haru muttered as he squeezed back into the office. “Rest of you, get out. We need to get Makoto caught up with the case.”

 

With a lot of hurried side shuffling and a rather mopey Nagisa, soon there were only three left in office 2W. A small table in the corner of the room had been hastily cleared off for Makoto to work on, and it was almost comical to see the PI squeeze his 6’ frame into a purple plastic folding chair.

 

“Here’s a condensed version of the notes,” Haru said, handing Makoto the folder. “The Pirate killed his first victim four years ago, in March 2009, a business owner named Hiroshi Miyazaki, who was suspected to have been embezzling money from his company.”

 

“All of the victims are wealthy people,” Makoto murmured, flipping page. “Is that his agenda?”

 

“Yes. The Pirate targets very rich people. Over two year’s time all of his nine victims have been high profile persons, such as government officials, business owners, stockbrokers, entertainment stars, and socialites.”

 

“But he only kills them if he thinks they’re bad people!” Nagisa added.

 

“What do you mean, ‘bad people’?”

 

“The Pirate does his research,” Haru explained. “Usually his victims are people who earned their wealth through illicit methods such as corruption, making others suffer for their own benefit, or riding on their rich parents’ coattails.”

 

“Like Aiichiro Nitori,” Makoto said. “The Pirate killed him just because he grew up in a rich family?”

 

“Yeah! Mako-chan’s really smart,” Nagisa cooed, propping his chin up on his hand. Makoto blushed.

 

“Anyway, after he kills them the Pirate usually steals a ton of money off the victim, hence his nickname. We’ve only managed to track down one account before, but we’re sure there are many more we haven’t found. He’s a very nasty killer too; usually he knocks the victims out with a blow to the back of the head and then drowns them before dumping the body elsewhere. He also leaves a clue behind that usually hints who the next victim is, like a breadcrumb trail or a treasure map.”

 

“And he cuts off their right hand!” Nagisa tacked on, imitating chopping movements. “He sticks a hook on afterwards, like Captain Hook from Peter Pan.”

 

“Well… he’s a right piece of work,” Makoto mumbled. “What a creep.”

 

“We’ve had several false leads in the past, the most memorable one being a telemarketer from a small company. He turned out to be a devout worshipper of the Pirate’s work and almost seemed to want to take the mantle up himself. Unfortunately, he was rather as rather convincing con and we went on a wild goose chase until we found out he wasn’t the killer.”

 

“What happened afterwards?” Makoto asked, and Haru felt himself clam up. Before he could think of a strategic response that would answer Makoto’s question without giving too much away, Nagisa beat him to it.

 

“Haru-chan cornered him with four other officers!” the blond said dramatically. “The guy tried to confess to the crime but Haru deduced that he was lying and tried to get him to back down. The guy didn’t like being called a liar, so he shot Haru-chan!”

 

“Nagisa!” Haru hissed as Makoto’s jaw unhinged.

 

“You got shot?!” the brunet cried.

 

“I got shot two _years_ ago,” Haru corrected vehemently.

 

“Haru-chan was grievously injured,” Nagisa said mournfully, latching onto Haru’s arm. “He almost died!”

 

“It was only an abdominal wound. Stop exaggerating.”

 

“Are you better now?” Makoto asked, seemingly unable to prevent his motherly instincts from kicking in. “Abdominal wounds are serious business, a lot of the vital internal organs are located in that central area and Sasabe-san mentioned that this is the first time you’ve gone for field work—”

 

“I’m _fine_ ,” Haru stressed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Really. I got better and actually passed the required fitness test, unlike some people.”

 

Nagisa stuck his tongue out.

 

Makoto looked conflicted for a moment, like he didn’t want to drop the subject, but eventually he said, “And then the Pirate stopped killing?”

 

“He stopped killing. He basically vanished without a trace, until now, two years later. We couldn’t find any type of clue on Nitori’s body, so either he’s changed his methods…”

 

“Or what?” Makoto asked wearily.

 

“Or Nitori was a warm-up,” Haru said quietly. “A public declaration that he’s back, and that he’ll kill again.”

 

“Jesus,” Makoto muttered, and Nagisa made a face. “So the only question is where and when he’ll strike next.”

 

“Yes,” Haru agreed. “It’s going to be a bit of a waiting game from now on.”

 

Makoto fell silent, his expression thoughtful. But before he could say whatever he wanted to, the door to the office burst open without warning and made them all jump. Mikoshiba ran into the room, his expression grim.

 

“They found another body,” the sergeant said, panting. “Down by Iwatobi Courthouse, ten minutes ago.”

 

“You’ve got to be joking,” Makoto exclaimed in disbelief as all three of them leapt from their seats and grabbed their coats, scrambling after the redhead.

 

“Looks like we won’t have to wait after all,” Haru said dryly. “Lead the way, Mikoshiba.”

 

+

 

Rei was on crowd control again, but this time the situation was serious enough for Nagisa to bypass the constable without a fuss. A small crowd had gathered, their mutterings humming through the air like a bunch of buzzing bees. An officer lifted the yellow tape for the three of them to pass, and after turning the corner the body was found slumped in a secluded section of the courthouse parking lot.

 

“What do we know?” Haru demanded, pushing up his sleeves.

 

“The security guard that found him recognized him as Kyo Mizuno,” the officer said. “He’s a well-known lawyer here.”

 

“He’s a criminal lawyer,” Haru clarified. “Even I’ve heard of him.”

 

“Doesn’t he only work for rich people?” Nagisa asked, scribbling furiously away on his notepad. “He got that businessman’s son off for drunk driving and narcotics possession three months ago!”

 

“Well, he’d fit right into the Pirate’s radar, wouldn’t he?” the DI muttered as they finally came up to the body. Underneath the dark blue tarp was indeed a young man in a fancy suit lying face-first on the pavement, an awful bruise on the back of his neck and his right hand replaced with a hook.

 

“Good grief,” Makoto frowned. “That’s disgusting.”

 

“His wallet’s been emptied!” Nagisa called, poking at an expensive leather wallet lying by the lawyer’s side. “It looks like credit cards are missing too.”

 

 

“Get somebody onto those,” Haru replied, carefully lifting the edge of Mizuno’s jacket without touching the fabric. There was blood on the lawyer’s chest and the upper half of his body and head was still wet.

 

“Haru,” Makoto said suddenly. “Look here.”

 

Makoto was pointing a Mizuno’s intact left hand, where were two crudely made necklaces using painted cardboard and string were stuffed into his palm. Reaching into his pocket to pull out his pen, Haru kneeled next to Makoto and tugged the necklaces up for a better view. Two circles dangled from the simple craft store string, and on each circle, there was a familiar design on both of them.

 

“Hang on,” Makoto frowned. “That’s the London 2012 Olympic logo!”

 

“That’s it,” Haru breathed. “This is the clue, who the next target is. He’s made the Olympic medals— he’s going after an athlete!”

 

Makoto quickly pulled out his phone and opened a browser. “An Olympic athlete that participated in the London games,” he summarized.

 

“He’s painted both medals gold,” Haru said. “The target would’ve placed first in two categories.”

 

“Right,” Makoto said, tapping away.

 

“If we can find out who it is, we can send guard details!” Nagisa said excitedly, popping up next to Haru. “We can catch the Pirate!”

 

Half-formed plans of sending people out on a manhunt were already floating in the back of the detective’s mind, but an odd feeling in his gut made him pause.

 

“Something’s not right,” he said. “I’m missing something.”

 

“There are seventeen athletes who won two gold medals in the 2012 games,” Makoto said.

 

“This guy is smart. He’s playing with us, taunting us,” Haru said, chewing his lip. “He _wants_ to make us mad.”

 

“Hey, what’s that on the other side of the medal?” Nagisa asked suddenly, pointing. The blond reached over and flipped pieces over, revealing two different designs on the back with a series of numbers scrawled beneath. Instantly, Haru felt a wave of realization wash over him.

 

“Oh, no,” he groaned.

 

“What? What is it?”

 

“The medals are different, and _this_ is the real clue. The Olympic logo narrows the list down, but look; this one is the swimming logo and that’s the rhythmic gymnastics one. The numbers are the winning time for the swimmer and the final score for the gymnast. The Pirate’s given us two targets!”

 

“Why would he do that?” Nagisa asked, confused, as Makoto cleared the search bar and started typing again.

 

“Like I said,” Haru muttered, yanking the tarp back over the body. “He wants to taunt us.”

 

“I found it!” Makoto said. “But you guys aren’t going to like this.”

 

“What do you mean? Who are they?” Haru demanded, leaning in.

 

“The gold medalist in swimming is a man, and the rhythmic gymnast is a woman,” Makoto said, holding up the phone. Side by side on the screen were two redheads, both wearing tracksuits and holding their medals at the Games.

 

“Rin and Gou Matsuoka. The Pirate’s next targets are _siblings_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Rin and Gou will make an appearance soon~ I wonder if they’ll survive?
> 
> I was actually going to make Rin the villain in the very early stages of the story, but I like him too much. (◡‿◡✿) Maybe killing him off will be better! (⊙‿⊙✿) Am I driving anybody insane yet?
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me thus far!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Haru, how are you going to save Rin and Gou?
> 
> Also, what did you guys think of the last episode? I BASICALLY SCREAMED AND CRIED AND BLOGGED ABOUT IT THE ENTIRE TIME. I’m so happy. I really hope a second season comes out!

The Wall Street Cops 5

 

The news of a second murder victim in less than three days had become quite the topic of every conversation in all of Iwatobi, which was exactly the sort of thing Haru knew would only make the situation worse. They didn’t need panicked masses in addition to the fact that they have a serial killer on the loose.

 

Sasabe pointed out that by going to the press conference in the afternoon the day after the attack they would be able to settle facts and destroy rumors floating around, but the media always had some way to twist words. It was an unavoidable thing.

 

“I know you hate this stuff,” the Commander sighed from the doorway of the meeting room the publicity staff was rushing about in. “Personally I do too. Let’s just get it over with, yeah?”

 

“Easy for you to say,” Haru muttered as he forcefully straightened his blue tie. It was his good luck tie; a present from his parents a long time ago. He wore it to his first job interview and was hired right away. Looking at the impatient reporters in the other room made him feel like he’d need all the extra help he could get.

 

“Ne, Haru-chan,” Nagisa said, skipping over and nuzzling his forehead into Haru’s side. “Are you gonna be okay? It’s been a while since you did a press conference.”

 

“I will be fine,” Haru replied simply. “You’re going to ruin your hair if you keep headbutting me like that.”

 

“At least we’ve got Mako-chan helping out today,” Nagisa sighed happily, trying (and failing) to flatten his wavy hair. “Usually I’m the one who’s always handing you notes and that can get very confusing when there’s a room full of people staring at you!”

 

“Where is he, anyway?” Haru frowned. “It’s almost time.”

 

“In the bathroom, last I checked,” Nagisa shrugged as he tried to fix his lanyard. Sasabe, who had been talking to somebody by the doorway for the past minute, checked his watch and gestured towards the two of them.

 

“Hey! It’s time! Where’s Makoto?”

 

“I don’t know—”

 

“I’m here, I’m here!” the brunet called, rushing into the room, jacket buttons undone and a pair of dark framed glasses perched on his nose. To his horror, Haru felt an unfamiliar heat creeping up his face.

 

“Mako-chan! What took you so long?” Nagisa asked, giggling as the PI hastily did up his suit.

 

“One of my contact lenses fell out,” Makoto said sheepishly. “I couldn’t put it back in in time so I had to run back to the registry building to get my glasses.”

 

“Good, good, that’s all very good,” Sasabe hissed distractedly. “But now you three really gotta get out there or else there’ll be a riot on our hands!”

 

“Right, sorry for the delay,” Makoto said apologetically. “Let’s get going— Haru? Is there something on my face?”

 

“No,” Haru said at once, spinning around to face the front. His mind was racing furiously, spewing out a litany of _Makoto in glasses Makoto in glasses Makoto in glasses_ and _why_ did the man look so ridiculously grown-up like that? They were just a pair of glasses!

 

“Haru! Go!” Sasabe hissed, giving Haru a push, and the DI nearly tripped as he walked into the first step on the stage. There was a massive crowd gathered in their media room: reporters, photographers, and television stations were all packed into the plain, white-wall room on chairs facing the platform. There were several tables placed together and microphones set up. Haru took a seat in the middle and both Nagisa and Makoto sat down next to him.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, if we could get started,” the task force publicity manager said from her seat down the row. “This is the press conference regarding the recent murders in Iwatobi City, we’ll begin taking questions on your left.”

 

A woman in a dark pink coat raised her hand. “Hello, Yuki Sakamoto, from the Evening News. Is it true that the killer is the rumored serial killer known as ‘The Pirate’ is behind those murders?”

 

“The signs indicate that there is a very high chance that it is the same killer, yes,” Haru said, his voice slightly distorted in the microphone.

 

Another reporter held their hand up. “Excuse me, Toshikuni Hisamatsu, with the District Paper. Is there any reason why the Pirate is surfacing now? I mean, it has been two years since he last appeared.”

 

“At this moment, no, we’re haven’t found any reason as to why he’s back, but we’ve been looking into it since the unfortunate case of Aiichiro Nitori.”

 

“Mayoko Momotani, Chanel 19,” a woman wearing a red dress called. “Am I correct in saying that this is your first time returning to active field duty since your injury two years ago, Nanase-san?”

 

Haru forced himself not to frown, and Makoto shifted next to him. “Yes, you are correct,” he replied, tone neutral. “However, I have been working in the homicide division for five years now and I am confident that an old injury will not hinder my deducing abilities.”

 

“But you _were_ injured,” Momotani cut in. “Are you sure you’ll be able to handle this case? I mean, it’s only been the third day and there’s a second body already.”

 

Cameras flashed and Haru tried very hard not to scrunch up his face in irritation. Here we go, he thought dryly.

 

“Then all more the reason for Haru-san to remain on the case, don’t you agree?” Nagisa said suddenly, a thin smile on his face. “He was head of the case two years ago and nobody knows the files better than he does. Haru-san worked very hard to catch the murderer and almost died because of it. The fact that he’s taking responsibility for the case a second time is more than enough to show his determination to take the killer down! All of us will do our best to catch the Pirate.” The _and don’t you forget it_ went unspoken but it was obvious that the message had gotten across quite clearly, and Haru ducked his head a little to hide a grin.

 

There was a very good reason why Nagisa was on the team.

 

The reporter sat down without another word, and the task force publicist coughed. “Are there any further questions?”

 

More reporters instantly jumped pounced, several of them talking over each other at once.

 

“Are there any further plans implemented at this time—”

 

“Mika Tadashi, from the Local News, could you about some safety tips to follow?”

 

“Masutaro Asahara from the Iwatobi Daily; Nanase-san, is there any information regarding the steps being taken to catching the killer?”

 

The publicist turned red, and Haru resisted the urge to slap a hand over his face.

 

The conference continued; Makoto introduced himself at some point, which seemed to satisfy some more dubious faces, and they took several more questions. When the forty-five minute session was up, there was a lot of jostling elbows and equipment maneuvering as the three of them were quickly ushered back into the publicity room for a debriefing.

 

“Well, that could’ve been worse,” Sasabe sighed dramatically, scratching at his buzzcut.  “I was expecting a fiasco and somebody to get stabbed with a ballpoint pen like the Ando case, but you all handled it quite well. Remind me never to piss you off, Nagisa.”

 

“I only get mad at people who disrespect Haru-chan!” Nagisa announced, leaping onto Haru like a tree frog. “I’m going to be his guardian angel!”

 

“Get off, you’re heavy,” Haru muttered, only half-heartedly trying to untangle himself from the blond. Nagisa was a good person, really, and the clinging was acceptable on good days.

 

“What’re your plans for the afternoon?” Sasabe asked as they made their way back to the registry building.

 

“We’re going to grab some files and then we’re driving down to the Matsuokas,” Makoto said, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with his long, slender fingers. For a brief second, Haru’s eyes trailed after the digits and the next thing he knew he’d walked right into a water dispenser with an almighty _crash_.

 

“Haru-chan! Are you okay?” Nagisa shrieked.

 

“I’m fine,” the detective spluttered, face red as be scrambled to push the machine back in place. “I just— that was—”

 

“You’ve been distracted all morning,” Sasabe noted, raising an eyebrow. “Is something up?”

 

“Weren’t we going to grab some files and head off?” Haru demanded, ruthlessly re-directing the conversation. “It takes half and hour to drive out of town, you know, and we have a lot of stuff to do.”

 

“Straight to the point,” Makoto chuckled, rolling up his sleeves to reveal lean forearms. “I’ll help Haru grab the files and then we’ll off—”

 

“No, you’re going to get the car,” Haru said at once, digging his car keys out of his pocket and almost chucking them at the brunet.

 

“Eh? But Haru—”

 

“Just get the car with Nagisa and _I’ll_ get the files.”

 

“But—”

 

“Get. The. Car.”

 

“Maa, if you say so, Haru-chan,” Nagisa pouted. “Bossy.”

 

“Your comment is invalid I am your actual boss. I’ll be down in ten minutes, just get in the car and drive around to the back door. God knows some reporters will still be hanging around trying to corner us at some point.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Nagisa said thoughtfully. “Good plan, Haru-chan! C’mon, Mako-chan, I call shotgun!”

 

“O-okay, then. We’ll catch you in a minute, Haru?”

 

The PI got a disinterested wave of a hand before disappearing into their office, leaving Nagisa to drag Makoto cheerfully down the hall while Sasabe shook his head and muttered, “Youths,” and left as well, presumably to go back to whatever he was doing before.

 

It was only after the sounds of their footsteps faded away did Haru allow himself to press a hand over his mouth, cheeks flushing furiously.

 

_They’re only glasses they’re only glasses they’re only glasses_ —

 

Damn the glasses!

 

+

 

“That was an exciting morning,” Makoto sighed as he followed Nagisa out into the more secluded back parking lot, scratching at his cheek. “I haven’t been to a press conference since I was part of the Samezuka police force.”

 

“That was the third time I’ve done one,” Nagisa said brightly. “They’re usually really boring though, and Haru does most of the talking and I just sort the notes. This is the biggest conference we’ve had since forever!”

 

“Well, the Pirate is sort of a big deal,” Makoto sighed. “And quite dangerous. It’s natural for the public to be very concerned.”

 

They both fell silent for a moment, until Nagisa suddenly piped up, “Ne, Mako-chan, you can protect Haru-chan, right?”

 

“Eh? W-well, I’m definitely here to help, but I think Haru would object to the term protecting, don’t you think?”

 

But Nagisa shook his head, expression forlorn. “Haru-chan doesn’t use a gun, Mako-chan.”

 

The brunet blinked. “What do you mean?”

 

“Ever since he got shot, Haru’s never kept his gun on him. It’s either in storage or in a safe at his flat. Marksmanship was his lowest score on his fitness re-test. I haven’t seen him hold one since I first started working with him, and it— it’s almost like he’s afraid of using one, so d’you see how that might be a problem when we’re trying to arrest a serial killer? So I think that’s why Sasabe wanted you to help even though he knows Haru doesn’t like outsiders on his cases. You can protect Haru-chan, and make sure he doesn’t get hit again, and—”

 

“Nagisa,” Makoto interrupted, gently catching the blond’s arm. “Nagisa, you know you’re more than capable of doing the same, right? You defended him at the conference today. Haru trusts you, and we’ll all look after one another.”

 

“Like a team?” Nagisa asked, brightening up.

 

Makoto laughed. “Like a team.”

 

“Awesome! We’ll solve this case together!”

 

“That’s the plan, once Haru comes down with the files… what’s taking him so long?”

 

“Maybe he’s lost them?” Nagisa suggested as they walked up to a pale grey car. “Should we get in and wait—oh look! There’s Haru-chan!”

 

“Why’s he running?” Makoto asked, squinting as the detective came sprinting across the parking lot, papers tucked under his arm and tie flapping.

 

“Haru-chan, where’s the rush?” Nagisa called.

 

“Keys,” Haru said through gritted teeth as he came to a skidding stop in front of the two. “Get in. We’re leaving, _now_.”

 

“Hm? Did something happen?”

 

“No, but I just ran into a lot reporters,” Haru hissed, tossing the folder into the backseat as he jammed his keys into the ignition. “Are you getting in or not?!”

 

Somewhere in the distance, what looked like a small crowd of cameramen and journalists were advancing rather quickly, dust billowing in their wake, and Makoto and Nagisa didn’t need to be told twice.

 

They leapt into the car, and Haru floored it.

 

+

 

The Matsuoka household was large, sprawling estate with a mixture of traditional Japanese designs and a modern architecture. There was a winding driveway, double doors, massive windows a separate garage, and a garden near the back, where a walkway led straight into the quiet woods. Inside, all the rooms were clean and tidy and gigantic— a clear sign of the Matsuoka family’s wealth. Yet, only Rin and Gou Matsuoka lived in their family home.

 

“Our parents work and live overseas,” Gou explained shyly, distractedly playing with a stray strand of hair. “So brother and I get the entire house to ourselves.”

 

She sat stiffly and looked nervous, which was an acceptable reaction when told that one was the next target of a serial killer. Meanwhile, her brother, Rin, was slouched next to her on the leather sofa; scowling and showing his alarmingly sharp teeth.

 

“How do I know this isn’t some shitty prank made to mess me or my little sister up before competition?” the swimmer demanded, cracking his knuckles rather threateningly.

 

“We’ve gathered sufficient information to believe that you are at risk,” Haru replied shortly, and Rin glowered. “We’ve shown you identification and all the evidence we’ve gathered. It would be good for all of us to cooperate with each other at this time.”

 

“People have faked being cops before.”

 

“I can assure you, we’re perfectly qualified. We apologize for the disruption in your daily schedule, but this is for your own safety.”

 

“They’re just trying to help, Rin!” Gou scolded, smacking her brother on a rather muscular arm. Rin yelped, looking annoyed.

 

“Hey! It’s normal to be suspicious when three guys tell you that you’re the next target of some nutjob out of the blue!”

 

“Didn’t you watch TV? That murderer has killed two people already, and many more in the past!”

 

“I was busy at the pool,” Rin defended, and Gou rolled her eyes. Makoto coughed, catching the siblings’ attentions before doing his wife smile again.

 

“Right now, the plan is to make sure both of you remain out of danger,” the PI said soothingly, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on his knees. “We’re going to assign twenty-four hour detail and keep surveillance on your home at all times. In the current environment, it would be wise to avoid going to public places, but if you really need to, make sure you’ve got one of our assigned officers with you.”

 

“We spent more time at the gym then we do in our house anyway,” Rin snorted, carding a hand through his hair.

 

“Would your officers mind waiting while we train though? Brother and I spend at least four hours a day for at least six days a week at the facilities,” Gou said, looking apologetic.

 

“That’s fine. They’ll be taking shifts. Do you have any other concerns?”

 

“No,” Rin cut in, before Gou could speak. “I’ll see you to the door.”

 

“Brother, be polite—”

 

“I _know!_ ” Rin said exasperatedly, practically forcing the trio towards the foyer. “Just stay there for a minute, Gou, just gotta have a word with these people.”

 

The four of them stumbled into the spacious hallway, with Rin casting a suspicious look of his shoulder before he rounded on the officers.

 

“You lot really aren’t yanking my chain? This wacko on the news has his eye out on my sister?”

 

“Yes. And you as well, Mr. Matsuoka,” Haru replied.

 

“Don’t you get smart with me, Grumpy,” Rin snarled, jabbing a finger in the detective’s face. “You and Giggly and Smiley over there may have my sister convinced that you’re doing your best, but if you let _anybody_ harm a single _strand_ of hair on her head—”

 

“Don’t tell me, you’ll bite?” Haru retorted. Something about the redhead really irked him, and he just couldn’t restrain the sarcastic comment. “I will tell you right now that this is a dangerous man, Mr. Matsuoka, so please, cooperate with us. It would be best for everybody if you allowed us to help in any way possible, which we will do so effective immediately, and I can promise you that there would only be minimal disturbances to your daily life.”

 

Rin narrowed his eyes, but he eventually backed away off. “Che. I guess we have no choice then. Send your best and brightest, detective.”

 

“Don’t worry, we will,” Haru said curtly before turning on his heel and walking swiftly from the room, leaving Makoto and Nagisa to hurry after him.

 

Once safely back in Haru’s car, the PI let out a low whistle.

 

“That was some guy.”

 

“He’s such a meanie!” Nagisa said, kicking his feet like a child. “He called you Grumpy, Haru!”

 

“And I’m pretty sure Giggly was you,” Haru muttered.

 

“Eh? Is Mako-chan Smiley then? I think it’s perfect!” Nagisa laughed, and Makoto chuckled.

 

“I’m glad you think so, Nagisa.”

 

“Ne, Haru-chan, don’t you agree that Mako-chan has the best smile?”

 

Haru rolled his eyes and forcefully put the car in drive. “Maybe,” he answered shortly before stepping on the gas again, taking them back to the station.

 

Along the whole way back, the little glints that reflected off Makoto’s glasses gave away the brunet’s occasional glances in Haru’s direction.

 

And this time, Haru pretended not to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use a Japanese name generator for all the names.
> 
> I’m pretty sure the smart idea would be to ship Rin and Gou right out of the damn country at this point, but hey, they need to stay. They’re plot devices, hee hee. By the way, here’s a fun fact! I looked up how many hours Michael Phelps, the American Olympic swimmer, spends training. He said anywhere from two to five hours a day for six days a week. Intense!
> 
> Also, I just had to include Makoto with glasses because I'm pretty sure I squealed loud enough to wake the dead when I saw megane!Makoto at the end of episode 4! Am I the only one who did that? OvO
> 
> Thank you, as always, for taking the time to read!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rin, you’re a baka butt. Haru-chan is trying to help! This is Chapter 6, ladies and gentlemen— in which Mikoshiba develops a crush, there are Rin/Rei dynamics, and new evidence prompts Makoto and Haru to dig deeper into the investigation.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read the story!

 

“… and that’s what you’ll be expected to do, starting this afternoon. Are there any questions?”

 

In the quiet calm of the meeting room in the task force’s main building, Mikoshiba and Rei glanced at each other before Rei stuck his hand up.

 

“Yes?” Haru asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“So, this assignment is for us to provide security for Rin and Gou Matsuoka until we catch the Pirate?” Rei asked, pushing his glasses up.

 

“Precisely. You two are in charge of this assignment. You’re not to let either sibling leave your sight, not even for a second, and try to stick together.”

 

“Oh. That’s pretty basic.”

 

“But super boring,” Mikoshiba said rather despondently. “Stake outs are not as glamorous as TV shows make them out to be.”

 

“We’re hunting down a serial killer,” Haru said crossly. “There’s nothing glamorous about anything going on around here.”

 

“Right you are, Haru-san.”

 

“We’ll be heading out with the two of you today, just to get some introductions and rules across. The Shark Matsuoka seems to have something against following instructions, so I’ll advise whoever’s keeping detail on him to be tactful.”

 

“Er—Haru-san, did you just say ‘Shark Matsuoka’?”

 

“You’ll see what I mean,” Haru said, waving his team off. “We leave at noon for the Oceans Athletic Complex. Bring something to do.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

It was fortunate that the department was shaping up quite effectively for the inevitable manhunt, but that also meant Haru, Makoto and Nagisa were basically working around the clock. They dragged themselves in at 8 in the morning, zombie-like until the caffeine kicked in an hour later. At work, they poured over various lab reports, studied old case files and tacked up more related news articles onto their bulletin board. Take-out boxes were pushed into the corner of their desks, the coffee pot remained at a constant half-full state, and it was nearly midnight before any of them could head home.

 

So basically university, but with more murder.

 

When Haru ducked into his continuously cramped office, it was to see Nagisa and Makoto completely engrossed in yet another file together.

 

“What’s that?” he asked.

 

“Haru-chan! Forensics just brought this over!” Nagisa exclaimed, leaping up. “It’s a huge plot twist!”

 

“There aren’t such things as plot twists in real life,” Haru deadpanned.

 

“The lab did some tests on those homemade Olympic medals we found on Kyo Mizuno’s body,” Makoto explained, passing the document over, his fingers brushing minutely against Haru’s. “Apparently there’s something significant about the ink.”

 

“The ink?”

 

“It would appear that the ink is a very special plant-based type that’s typically considered environmentally friendly.” Makoto explained. “In the past six years, there is only one place that has distributed a type of pen that uses this ink for personal use.”

 

“And where would that be?”

 

“The Four Islands University of Arts and Communications,” Makoto answered, spinning his laptop around to display the home page for the school. “It’s a prestigious institute famous for its artists and writers. In the year of 2007, they changed the type of pens they gave out to graduates to the same one found on the evidence. With this information—”

 

“We have a time stamp,” Haru said, catching on at once.

 

“Exactly,” Makoto nodded, a grin on his face. “The Pirate would have to be a graduate in that school from within the past six years—”

 

“And if we do the math we can narrow our primary search down to the first two years—”

 

“Because the killings began in 2009!”

 

“Exactly!”

 

They stared at each other in slight awe, the whirlwind of information they’d both come up with hanging in the air.

 

“Ne, does Haru-chan and Mako-chan read each other’s minds?!” Nagisa demanded suddenly, breaking the trance. “That was incredible! You guys are like the perfect team!”

 

Makoto blushed and Haru felt his stomach flop as he muttered, “Don’t be ridiculous, Nagisa.”

 

“It’s the truth,” the blond exclaimed. “You’re like those Western partners: Bonnie and Clyde!”

 

“I’m pretty sure Bonnie and Clyde were thieves and killers, Nagisa,” Makoto chuckled.

 

“Anyway,” Haru sighed, “If this is the case, I want the graduating classes of 2007, 2008 and 2009 up ASAP. That’s going to be your job,” he added to Nagisa. “Makoto and I need to head out to the Sports Complex this afternoon with Mikoshiba and Rei for security detail.”

 

“WHAT?!” Nagisa yelped, slamming his hands down on the table. “You can’t make me stay here! I want to see Rei-chan!”

 

“I can’t let you distract him from his job!” Haru retorted. “Every time you two get together you act like you’ve been separated for years or something!”

 

“That’s because you always keep me here!” Nagisa grumbled, slouching down in his chair. “I’m like a princess, locked away in a tower, and Haru-chan’s the mean dragon trying to separate me from my prince!”

 

“I cannot _believe_ you just made that parallel.”

 

“It’s true! Haru-chan hates young love because nobody young loves him!”

 

“Hey, it is not my fault gross older men like flirting with me!”

 

“Alright, alright, let’s get back to work here,” Makoto interrupted in a soothing, pacifying tone. “Nagisa, please look up the graduating rosters from the university? Haru and I will head down to the Sports Complex now, right, Haru?”

 

“Right,” Haru muttered, and grabbed his coat as Nagisa pouted magnificently but swirled around in his chair to get his computer. Just as they were about to leave, the blond suddenly called out, “You need to give to Rei-chan a kiss from me though, Haru-chan!”

 

“Not on your life!”

 

Makoto laughed throughout the entire car ride.

 

+

 

They ran into trouble thirty seconds into everybody was introduced.

 

“No,” Rin growled, crossing his arms.

 

“Excuse me?” Haru asked, eyebrow twitching.

 

“Is this some kind of joke?” the swimmer demanded. “This is all the security you managed to dig up? This is your best and brightest? All we’ve got here is Muscles and Glasses!”

 

“I assure you, Matsuoka-san, that wearing glasses will not hinder any of my abilities as police officer,” Rei retorted before Haru could stop him, and the redhead pounced on the officer’s words like a shark on its prey.

 

“The glasses are only the beginning,” Rin snapped. “You look more like a school teacher than a cop!”

 

Rei instantly puffed up like an angry bird, but before Haru could step in and divert the explosion, Gou suddenly charged over and punched Rin in the gut.

 

“Ow! Gou! What was that for?!”

 

“I _told_ you to be _polite_!” Gou said, crossing her arms like an angry mother as Rin scowled. To be honest, it was quite a scary sight because of his abnormally sharp teeth, but Gou glared back just as fiercely.

 

“Don’t you dare, brother,” she said before Rin could utter a word. “You promised! And real big brothers don’t go back on their promises, right?”

 

Rin ground his teeth rather alarmingly for a second, but then he deflated with a huff. “Fine,” he grumbled. Gou perked up at once, a radiant smile on her face.

  
“I knew I could trust you!” she said happily before turning to the officers. “Thank you for your help! I hope we’ll all get along together!”

 

Rin took a rather sharp elbow to the side before grunting out, “Yeah…” as well. Haru rolled his eyes.

 

“So we’re settled now? Great. Let’s pair off then. Rei, you’ll stay with Gou—”

 

“No!”

 

“What is it now?!” Haru demanded, rounding on Rin. “You just—”

 

“Glasses goes with me!” Rin snapped back. “Muscles can look after my sister!”

 

“Brother—”

 

“Don’t. Argue. With. Me. Not on this one, Gou,” Rin said, his tone faintly strangled, and Gou stared at her older brother for a moment before shaking her head.

 

“Alright, I’ll stay with Mikoshiba-san then. Will that be all right with you? Mikoshiba-san?”

 

The sergeant jumped a little at his name, looking oddly spooked. “O-of course!” he said loudly. Gou smiled.

 

“Alright then, let’s get going,” Haru grumbled. Rin grunted and grabbed his things, sulking off towards the direction of the sports facilities while Gou tagged cheerfully along behind him. Feeling a full-blown migraine building up already, Haru turned to his officers, only to find a very strange sight presented before him.

 

Mikoshiba looked stunned. Rei, for lack of a better word, looked _furious_.

 

“Oi, what’s gotten into the two of you?” Haru asked, snapping a finger in front of Mikoshiba’s wide eyes.

 

“Is that the Shark Matsuoka you were telling me about?” Rei demanded, almost steaming with anger. “What a rude man! I can’t believe I’m saddled with him for the next eight hours!”

 

“Well, he’ll be swimming for at least six hours, so your interaction would probably be limited,” Haru shot back. Rei turned his nose up but hurried after the siblings, muttering something that sounded mysteriously like, “Freak with a teeth condition”.

 

“Er, Mikoshiba? Are you alright?” Makoto asked, waving a hand in front of the tall redhead’s face.

 

“She’s— she’s—” Mikoshiba murmured in a vague whisper.

 

“She’s what?”

 

“She’s so cute!” Mikoshiba burst out, and Haru nearly had to shield his eyes from the sudden brilliant light that seemed to be radiating from his starstruck sergeant. “I’ve never seen somebody as adorable as Gou in my whole life! And did you see how she just whaled Rin in the gut? Man! What a _punch_!”

 

“Are you kidding me right now?” Haru cried exasperatedly. “I can think of eighteen different reasons why you shouldn’t think Gou Matsuoka is cute, and the top three involves serial killers, a shark-toothed brother and a boss who is going to tear you a new one if you don’t _get to your post right now!_ ”

 

“Sir, yes sir!” Mikoshiba said quickly, and bolted after the others. Haru watched him go, feeling the headache spread. The task force’s best and brightest indeed.

 

“Maa, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you snap like that before,” Makoto said gently, placing a companionable hand on the detective’s shoulder. Haru flinched minutely at the unexpected contact and the brunet drew back almost at once.

 

“It’s… been a long day,” Haru said quietly. “We have to go back to the office and bury ourselves in paperwork after we’ve checked that those idiots have settled in.”

 

“Are we going to the pool and the gym then?”

 

“No, there’s a viewing balcony we can look through from. They’re adults, they’ll learn to deal with one another.”

 

“I hope they do,” Makoto chuckled, and the two of them made their way down the hall and walked up the stairs in silence. The row of benches viewing area was empty, and through the elegant glass window they could see the complex’s ice rink, the fifty-meter pool and the gymnastics area where a multitude of equipment was set up.

 

After waiting for a while, Gou emerged from the change room with several teammates and quickly took to warming up while Mikoshiba sat down by the wall. By the pool, Rin was taking a quick shower while Rei stomped off to sit in a plastic folding chair next to the pool and pull out paperwork. As they watched, Rin walked up the lane next to Rei and leapt in, sending a wave of water onto the officer. Rei, as it transpired, shrieked and dragged his chair away from the water’s edge.

 

“Well, this is off to a great start,” Makoto sighed, tugging wearily at his tie. Haru bit his lip as he watched the knot around the brunet’s neck slip loose, revealing a sliver of smooth skin, and he abruptly turned on his heel and started walking away.

 

“Eh? Haru! Where are you going?”

 

“Back to the office. We need to work on the files.”

 

“Ah— right, right.”

 

When they finally climbed back into Haru’s car, Makoto leaned back into his seat and was quiet for a moment before saying rather suddenly, “Have you got something on your mind, Haru?”

 

The detective looked over, surprised. “What makes you say that?”

 

“Well,” Makoto said, grinning a little sheepishly. “You still do that thing with your eyebrows when you’re thinking a lot.”

 

Haru frowned. “What eyebrow thing?”

 

“Your left eyebrow dips down more than your right one whenever you’re troubled.”

 

“… my eyebrow does no such thing.”

 

“Your eyebrows have been doing that since you were six,” Makoto smirked, but then his smile faltered, and Haru felt his headache worsen. They sat awkwardly for a moment before Haru turned and started the ignition.

 

… Makoto had noticed his eyebrows do that since they were _kids_?

 

The fond memories of childhood suddenly seemed to burst forth, involving walking together to primary school every day and swimming in the ocean in the summer and playing cops and robbers by the riverbank— and then they were instantly shut down as Haru jammed his foot down on the gas pedal.

 

“He’s up to something,” he said at last, breaking the silence. Makoto looked up, startled.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“The Pirate,” Haru answered as they pulled up to the intersection. “Something about the Matsuokas doesn’t make sense.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“All of the Pirate’s targets and victims thus far have been rich people, and there is no denying that the Matsuoka family has money, but neither Gou or Rin spends it recklessly. Most of their funds for competing come from their sponsors anyway, and they have to win in order to get any at all. They train for hours and hours a day for _years_. There is literally nothing about them that doesn’t ooze effort, self-sacrifice and commitment. They’re not the typical targets the Pirate hunts.”

 

Makoto tapped his chin, thinking. “I looked up their parents. Both of them work in International Trade. D’you think that just because they make money they’re the reason why Rin and Gou are being targeted? Like Nitori?”

 

“Nitori relied on his father’s connections to get into the banking company,” Haru countered as they stopped for a red light. “That was publicly known. He got a lot of criticism for it too, and there were a lot of spoof shows that made fun of father and son. But Rin and Gou both made their way into the Olympics and won gold on nothing but training and undeniable talent.”

 

“So, if that’s the case… then what _is_ the Pirate’s game?” Makoto wondered out loud, and then the car behind them crashed into their bumper with an almighty _crunch_.

 

All of the air whooshed out of Haru’s lungs as he launched forwards, his seatbelt biting into skin. Next to him, the PI let out a startled yell and threw his hand forward to keep from hitting the glove compartment. There was a sudden blare of horn before a van driving with the green light barreled into the exposed front of Haru’s car, clipping his headlight and knocking the vehicle into the thankfully empty lane next to theirs.

 

“Fuck!” Makoto bit out, holding his wrist, and Haru felt his stomach turn.

 

“Are you alright? Are you hurt? Is it your wrist?” he demanded, grabbing the brunet’s shoulder. “Makoto? Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Makoto replied, grimacing as he checked his hand. “Just bent it a bit more than I’m supposed too; nothing an ice pack wouldn’t fix.”

 

Haru exhaled unconsciously, relief flooding through him, closely followed by anger. That had been much too close. Without another word he unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

 

The damage seemed minimal, at least. The headlight was shattered and unsalvageable, the taillight was dented, and the bumper was done in rather badly. All of it would have to be replaced, but at least the car remained in decent shape. Now, to account to the driver.

 

“Detective Inspector Nanase Haruka,” Haru snapped, flashing his ID towards the other driver getting out of his car. “What part of ‘stop for a red light’ did you not learn in driving school?”

 

“N-Nanase-san?” the driver stammered, and Haru blinked. The light-haired man looked rather familiar.

 

“Uh, Asahara, the reporter?” Asahara said shamefacedly, tugging at his sleeve. “I’m really sorry about your car, really, there was something wrong with my brakes.”

 

“As in you didn’t know how to use them, or what?” Haru said coldly as Makoto walked up next to him. Asahara waved his hands frantically, looking desperate.

 

“No! Never! I’ve had my license since I was sixteen! This is my first accident, I swear! I’ve never even run a yellow light in my life! It was my brakes, please, officer, I swear.”

 

“I’m going to call traffic patrol,” Haru grumbled, digging out his cell phone. “Makoto, call Nagisa and tell him we’re going to be late.”

 

“Right,” Makoto said. “Are you okay, Haru? Your side got clipped by that van.”

 

“That’s why I always wear a seatbelt,” Haru replied, dialing for the headquarters as he unconsciously rubbed the sore spot on his chest. Makoto dialed the blond’s number and the reporter hung his head, shuffling his insurance papers around in his hand.

 

In the end, it took about an hour and a half before they exchanged contact information, towed away both cars and gave a detailed report to the officer that arrived. Nagisa had shown up with Amakata in her pink Cube van after everybody had left, shrieking about their health and whether or not they needed to go to the hospital.

 

In the end, Haru forced them to drop him off at his flat before taking Makoto to a drop-in clinic to get his wrist checked out. The brunet had tried to worm his way out of it, but after being shouted down by a constable, an assistant DI _and_ a detective, he caved and agreed to see a doctor. Somehow, that settled the insistent feeling of unease in Haru’s stomach.

 

When he finally unlocked his door and walked into his apartment, he threw his jacket over his chair and pitched forwards onto the bed, brain too full of half-formed thoughts and heart still too worried about Makoto to do anything other than sleep.

 

+

 

_The narrow strip of pavement tucked between two towering buildings was uneven and damp from the rainstorm that swept through the city just hours before. Gravel crunched like bones beneath his feet as he ran, coattails flapping behind him like the wings of a bird. His breath came up in smoke and the cold air made his lungs hurt with its stale sharpness._

_The shadow of the criminal was an erratic, flailing shape that slithered on and off the walls as the man ran, crashing into garbage cans and other objects scattered in the backstreet. He picked up his pace, heart pumping madly in his chest._

_It was time they ended this._

_Up ahead, there was a sudden roar of anger and desperation, followed by the loud clanging noise of metal on metal. He slowed his pace to a halting jog as he recognized the sound of a trapped man. Their suspect would not be going anywhere now. He slid his hand into his coat and pulled his gun from his holster, releasing the safety as he rounded the corner and raised the weapon._

_“Freeze! Get down on your knees and put hands behind your head!”_

_Shu Ishiguro was clawing at the gate, yanking at it and throwing his head back and forth like a man possessed. The man kicked at it before growling, “Here to arrest me, detective?”_

_Haru narrowed his eyes and leveled his gun. “I’m not going to repeat myself. Get down now or I will shoot you, Ishiguro.”_

_Ishiguro turned, his hair matted and greasy. He was still wearing the yellow polo shirt from the telemarketing company beneath a heavy grey coat. “You can’t do that, detective. There are laws against shooting an innocent man.”_

_“There’s nothing innocent about you,” Haru said coldly. “Get. Down. Now.”_

_“You think I’m the killer,” Ishiguro whispered, rubbing his shaking hands together. His eyes darted frantically, never settling for longer than a second. “But I’m not, detective, and you know this.”_

_“I’m warning you—”_

_“You’re smart, detective! You weren’t fooled by my claims or fake messages! I’d love to kill somebody, oh yes I would, but you know that I’m a man living on borrowed time. Me! Sickly, diseased Shu! You know I can barely lift a shopping bag, let along beat down and hold a man underwater until he drowns. You’re chasing the wrong person, and you know it!”_

_His mind was whirring, his throat tightening— he did know this. He’d come so far, only to reach yet another infuriating dead end. Ishiguro dropped his hands, and one of them crawled towards his pocket—_

_“Hands up!” Haru shouted, and Ishiguro bolted. His fingers squeezed the trigger just as the criminal crashed headfirst into him, knocking them into the wall. He’d missed; the bullet ricocheted somewhere and Ishiguro was scrambling like a rat trying to escape a trap. He grabbed the man’s collar, dragging him back, and Ishiguro’s hand made it into his pocket._

_He didn’t hear the gunshot so much as he felt it: the volume of the world suddenly imploded into silence, as though he’d fallen into water. His legs felt very weak, and he was falling forwards, pitching towards the ground._

 

_The sound of guns, the red hot pain in his lower abdomen—_

_“Oi! Nanase! Keep your eyes open Nanase! You’re going to be okay! Help! Somebody get help!”_

_His vision swimming, his breaths uneven—_

_“Officer down! Officer down!”_

_Blood. Pain._

_Fear._

_“Nanase! Haru! HARU!”_

 

He sat bolt upright in his bed, ears ringing and inhaling air like a drowning man. Haru clutched his stomach desperately, fingers clawing into his skin hard enough to leave a mark. He could feel his shirt sticking to his back and his hair plastered to his forehead, and there were about a hundred things going through his mind.

 

It was a dream. He had a dream about the day he got shot. Two years later, and he still couldn’t forget it. The phantom pain in his abdomen was slowly easing away, but for a moment he’d been so sure the bullet had been lodged in his stomach again, making his head spin and his head hurt. Flopping bonelessly back onto the bed, Haru exhaled shakily, pushing his bangs back.

 

There had been a lot of speculation around what had happened before the rest of his team arrived at the alleyway because Haru had never truly told anybody what happened. Nagisa, for one, thought he’d been shot for calling Ishiguro out as a liar. Mikoshiba and Rei thought it was an unfortunate case of not reacting fast enough.

 

All of them were wrong. He’d simply chased the wrong lead and paid a price for it.

 

He rolled over onto his back and sighed, staring up at the ceiling. It was the first time in his whole career that he’d made such a terrible mistake. In addition, waking up in the hospital a day later with IV drips stuck into his arm and high on morphine didn’t help ease the anger, self-hate, and humiliation. He’d been the one to get shot, and he couldn’t even take down a sick man less than eight feet in front of him. God, he felt pathetic.

 

Without warning, his phone rings shrilly.

 

Jumping violently, Haru momentarily fumbled for the device in the dark before quickly unlocking his mobile.

 

“Detective Inspector Nanase,” he rasped.

 

“Haru! You need to get up now!”

 

“Sasabe? What’s going on?”

 

“The Pirate,” the Commander said, and Haru felt his insides go cold.

 

“Impossible,” he spluttered. “Rin and Gou have two overnight details on them right now, there’s no possible way they could be attacked—”

 

“It’s not Gou or Rin!” Sasabe said hurriedly. “They’re safe. It’s another body; they found it on 4th Street and Parkway fifteen minutes ago. You need to see this, Haru.”

 

His feet had already hit the ground, stumbling towards his bathroom.

 

“I’ll be there in ten.”

 

“Hurry,” Sasabe said, and hung up. Haru spashed water on his face and attempted to make himself presentable at the unholy hour of 2 am before scrambling to dig his badge and car keys out from his bedside drawer.

 

And then, on nothing more than a whim and fading dream in his mind, he opened his gun safe for the first time in two years.

 

+

 

When he arrived at the scene after a nerve-wracking twenty minute ride in a taxi, the first thing Haru steps into is a puddle of vomit.

 

“What the—”

 

“Haru!”

 

Sasabe was waving him over from behind the yellow tape, his reflective vest flashing from the spinning lights on the cars. Weaving between the various officers, traffic control and forensics scientists already on scene, he ducked under the tape and joined the Commander.

 

“Where is the body?”

 

“Around the corner,” Sasabe directed, walking so fast Haru nearly tripped as he tried to catch up. He’d never seen his boss so stressed before. “A security guard found her just as he arrived for duty, behind the main building.”

 

They rounded the corner where three business offices were positioned around a neatly paved courtyard. In the middle was a massive model ship, made of artistically twisted metal, sitting in a fountain. And there, on the ship’s prow was the body of a woman, naked, and strung up as a figurehead one might see on a pirate ship. Her face was beaten near unrecognizable, wires strung through her arms, sides and legs, suspending the body against the metal bars. Her torso was torn open and her bloody innards were spilling on into the fountain, where the waters were stained a murky red.

 

“What the hell,” Haru spluttered, unconsciously tightening his hands into fists at the sight of such a grotesque scene. “What is this— _what is he playing at?_ ”

 

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Sasabe said.

 

“This isn’t normal, even for the Pirate. He’s never gone off like this before. Why would—”

 

“Haru! Sasabe!”

 

It was Makoto and Nagisa, both with bedheads worse than Haru’s, and Makoto’s right wrist was bandaged. They hurried over only to come to a shuddering stop when they saw the Pirate’s handiwork.

 

“Oh my god,” Makoto choked out, his eyes widening, and Nagisa went white.

 

“H-Haru-chan? This isn’t the Pirate, is it?”

 

“At this point I’m hoping it’s the Pirate,” Haru growled through gritted teeth. “Because if we have another serial killer in Iwatobi I am going to kick something.”

 

“Nanase-san?” There was a forensics scientist heading towards them, looking grim. “There’s something you should see.”

 

“And it keeps getting better,” Haru groaned, running a hand through his tangled bangs before he was handed something carefully tucked away in a plastic evidence bag. Makoto, Nagisa and Sasabe all crowded around him.

 

There was a message scrawled on what appeared to be a sheet of parchment paper.

 

 _You’re searching in the wrong direction again, Detective Inspector_.

 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Haru said quietly.

 

“Haru? What does this mean?”

 

“This murder was nothing but a statement,” Haru growled. “The Pirate’s messing with us.”

 

“Why—”

 

A sudden buzz in his pocket startled him, and Haru frowned and dug out his phone.

 

“Haru? Are you okay?” Makoto asked, his eyebrows pinched.

 

There was a text. A sudden feeling of dread curling in his stomach, and Haru unlocked his phone as everybody suddenly crowded around him.

 

_[Unknown Number: 267 890 3345] Did you find my message, Detective Inspector?_

 

“Son of a—”

 

“He’s texting you?!”

 

“He’s watching us,” Haru spluttered. “He’s here!”

 

Sasabe was already walking off towards the police cruisers. “I need people on the ground and rooftops now! Search the next two blocks! Quickly!”

 

The phone buzzed again.

 

_[Unknown Number: 267 890 3345] Are you surprised? You won’t find me though, Haru-san. The game can’t end this quickly._

 

Gritting his teeth, Haru forced himself to type out a respond.

 

_How did you get this number?_

 

The Pirate answered at once.

 

_[Unknown Number: 267 890 3345] That’s a spoiler, Haru-san. Are you sure you didn’t get hit in the head in that accident two years ago? You used to be quicker than this._

 

_And you used to be a little saner._

_[Unknown Number: 267 890 3345] Well, we can’t all get what we want, can we? But you should think about the message I left you. This has always been just between you and me. Don’t get cocky._

_Maybe it’s you who should consider that advice._

_[Unknown Number: 267 890 3345] It’s been lovely chatting, but I really must go. Things to do, people to kill. Let’s see if you can keep up. Here’s a hint: the phone I’m using belonged to that lovely masterpiece on the ship monument. Should save you some trouble trying to trace my texts. Until next time._

 

“He is twisted,” Makoto said quietly, the underlying anger seeping out with every syllable.

 

“There’s no use searching now,” Haru bit out in frustration, angrily stashing his mobile back into his coat pocket. “He’ll be long gone, and the next thing we know more bodies are going to show up and—”

 

“That’s not going to happen,” Makoto interrupted, his voice firm. “We’re not going to let that happen, Haru. We’re going to find him, and we’re going to stop him.”

 

There was a rare sort of anger in Makoto’s voice that generally wasn’t associated with the rather gentle brown-haired man, and Haru couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. Despite everything, perhaps Makoto _was_ actually a person he could depend on.

 

“Yes,” he said, voice steady. “We will.”

 

Makoto nodded and clapped a hand on Haru’s shoulder, warm and anchoring, before waving for Nagisa to head over to talk to Sasabe. Haru watched them go, his mind going a mile a minute. The Pirate was taking everything to a whole new level, and if he wasn’t careful in enough, he could lose this time.

 

Permanently.

 

Another buzz brought him from his thoughts, and with a quick glance in Sasabe, Makoto and Nagisa’s direction he unlocked his phone again to find one more message.

 

_[Unknown Number: 267 890 3345] By the way, your private investigator is a rather handsome man. It would be a shame if something were to happen to him, wouldn’t it?_

 

A cold ball of fear and the burning feeling of rage instantly curled in Haru’s stomach as he typed out his next reply furiously.

 

 _Don’t. You. Dare_.

 

_[Unknown Number: 267 890 3345] You better catch up then, Haru-san, because if you can’t find a way to catch me, no one will._

 

There were no more texts after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I actually wasn’t expecting the last threat from the Pirate to happen my hands literally just started typing and my brain started thinking and I’ve just plot twist-ed myself— is that possible? Ahhh, what have I done~
> 
> … I wonder if Makoto’s going to survive this now, ho ho ho.
> 
> Also: I might be a little later than usual updating Chapter 7, because my tests and assignments are starting to pile in now that school’s kicked into high gear, and my midterms are in less than two weeks away! So I’ll be studying during this time :’) Please be patient with me!
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, two things: one, I’m super sorry I updated late. I haven’t been feeling very well as of late and on top of that my homework that made me ever tardier than usual.
> 
> And two— I have nothing to say about this chapter other than please enjoy it, and if anybody wants to find me I’ll be hiding under the cushions blushing a billions shades of red.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read the story!

When he returned home at 5 am, Haru hadn’t bothered sleeping. Instead, he made a beeline for the shower, peeling out of his grimy shirt and trousers as he went. A hot soak had barely eased the exhaustion and tightness of his shoulders before he picked out a new shirt, clean pants, and stuffed all his things back into his pockets. A quick breakfast consisted of bread that stuck to his throat as he swallowed and a mug of tea that ended up untouched as he sat at the kitchen table, hand propping his head up, his exhausted brain still working on overdrive.

 

He needed to solve this case before things got worse.

 

When a loud knock sounded on his door, Haru startled for a moment, hand reflexively reaching towards the gun holster lying on the tabletop before he got up and answered the door.

 

Makoto was standing outside, looking as tired as Haru felt.

 

“Good morning,” the brunet said, scratching the back of his neck. Haru stared.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Ah, well, seeing that your car’s at the garage after yesterday, I thought you might like a lift to work,” Makoto said softly, shuffling his feet a little. It took a moment for Haru to gather his thoughts, and once he realized what Makoto was saying, his heart stuttered a bit like a stupid teenager with a crush.

 

“That’s… nice of you, thanks. Uh, I’ll get my things.”

 

Makoto tilted his head and did his wife smile again. “No problem,” he said, and they fell into peaceful silence after that.

 

Silence that was, of course, broken the minute they entered the office.

 

"Haru-chan, Mako-chan, something terrible has happened!" Nagisa shrieked, and then stared. "Wait, why did you two come in at the same time? Oh my god! Is there something you're not telling me?!"

 

"Priorities, Nagisa," Haru groaned, setting his bag down. "What was that about awful news again?"

 

"Oh, yeah, that. Well, this morning Ama-chan dropped by to tell me that somebody broke into the scene of the crime by the Iwatobi Courthouse late last night!"

 

" _Broke in_? How?"

 

"The forensics team that went in this morning found some of the evidence contaminated," Nagisa explained. "They're not certain if anything's stolen yet."

 

"Alright, grab your car keys, Makoto, we're going out," Haru muttered, brushing past the PI. "Nagisa, you’re coming with us too."

 

"Oh, hey, did you two carpool this morning? Aw, Mako-chan, you're such a sweetheart, picking Haru-chan up when he doesn't have a car!"

 

"Well, he's always the one driving," Makoto said sheepishly as they hurried back downstairs to the parking lot.

 

Nagisa grinned and loped an arm through the brunet's and then forcefully dragged Haru over as well. There was something rather mischievous about the blond's grin, and Haru decided he'd rather not know what was going through his assistant's mind.

 

When they arrived, the forensics team quickly confirmed the break-ins.

 

"Security's checked the cameras," the squad leader said, tugging at his rubber gloves. "We've got nothing so far though."

 

"Is anything missing?" Haru asked as Nagisa scribbled away in his notebook.

 

"Nothing. They messed up some of the roped-off areas, but it's not unsalvageable."

 

"Have you got a time stamp?" Makoto asked.

 

"We're looking at roughly 2:30 am," the scientist replied. "The building security told us there was a shift change at 2:00, and the guard who left came this way. He didn't notice anything at the time."

 

"2:30 am," Haru said quietly as the scientist left. “That’s fits in with the time frame of the murder yesterday night.”

 

“And the courthouse is only three blocks away from 4th and Parkway,” Makoto added. “The Pirate would’ve had plenty of time to get here.”

 

“Check the area,” Haru sighed, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his coat. “Keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.”

 

That sent the three of them off into different directions, searching high and low of the parking lot, the hallways, stairwells, and even the exits at the side of the building, but those were only accessible by staff members with certain keycards. Almost out of ideas, they reconvened to search the alleyway, and that was when luck began to favour the officers at last.

 

There was a stooped figure in a dark jacket and washed-out jeans was poking around several discarded boxes in the back street, muttering to himself.

 

“Hold on,” Haru said quietly, throwing an arm out to stop Makoto. Nagisa nearly ran into the PI as he came to a sudden halt. “There’s somebody there.”

 

“Who is it?” Nagisa hissed.

 

The brunet stood up on tiptoe and leaned out to get a better look; his chin nearly bumped into Haru’s head.

 

“That can’t be the Pirate,” Makoto whispered. “That’s too obvious.”

 

“He could still be involved in breaking into the crime scene.”

 

Makoto frowned. “Fair enough,” he amended, just as Nagisa managed to worm his way between the two and poke his head around the wall.

 

“Just who’re you staring at?”

 

“Shhh,” Haru grumbled. “That guy, over there. He might be a possible suspect.”

 

“What guy…? Oh. _Oh_ ,” Nagisa said suddenly, perking up. “Nah, he’s not a suspect.”

 

“What? How do you know—” Makoto started to say, but before either of them could stop the blond Nagisa had suddenly bolted forwards, latching onto the back of the figure’s jacket like a tiger pouncing on its prey. The guy let out a rather unmanly shriek and clawed in surprise at the air.

 

“Leggo ‘o me, what’s your problem man—”

 

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that question,” Nagisa said with a rather dangerous smile on his face as he clung on stubbornly. The guy stopped flailing at once and stiffened, like somebody had dumped ice down his back.

 

“N-Nagisa-san?” he stammered, slowly turning around to face the blond, only to yelp as Nagisa cuffed him on the side of the head.

 

“I told you not to use my real name!”

 

“But—”

 

“Code names! I’m incognito!”

 

“While wearing that bright pink monstrosity of a sweater?” Haru deadpanned, ducking out from his hiding spot. There was no point in being discreet anyway, seeing that his assistant had basically jumped a guy. Nagisa shot the detective a withering look as Makoto failed to choke back a laugh.

 

“W-who’re they?” the guy asked, eyes darting nervously between Haru and Makoto, both whom towered over him.

 

“My associates,” Nagisa said smoothly. “Nobody you need to care about. Tell us what you’re doing here.”

 

“Just— just hanging, y’know? Nothing bad, I swear!”

 

“You do realize this area is a crime scene?” Haru asked, crossing his arms.

 

“I swear I got nuthin’ to do with anythin’ here!”

 

“You’re lying,” Nagisa said at once. “You know what happens when you lie to me, Furusawa.”

 

“No! I’m not, Nag— Big Penguin! Really!”

 

“What,” Haru said at the same time Makoto asked, “Uh, did he just call you a penguin, Nagisa?”

 

“It’s my code name!” Nagisa said defensively.

 

“Why on earth do you need a code name?”

 

“This is Kunitaro Furusawa. He’s one of my underground contacts; an inside man,” Nagisa explained, planting a hand on his hips. “Don’t tell me _you_ don’t have contacts, Haru-chan.”

 

“Of course I have a couple of them,” Haru sighed. “What kind of a cop would I be if I didn’t?”

 

“Y-you’re cops?” Furusawa asked, sweat beading on his upper lip. Nagisa grinned sharply at the nervous man.

 

“No we’re not. I’m Big Penguin, remember? These guys are just my buddies. Who said anything about cops?”

 

“Right,” Furusawa mumbled.

 

“What kind of a code name is Big Penguin?” Haru demanded.

 

“Isn’t that the popular children’s toy?” Makoto asked. “It’s one of the characters from the Marine Animals series.”

 

“How do you know that?” Haru stared, and Makoto flushed a little, scratching at his neck.

 

“Er, I might have a collection?”

 

“Big Penguin is my daughter’s favourite toy,” Furusawa said gloomily. “Nobody will suspect me talking to a cop when his code name’s a stuffed animal.”

 

“What on earth possessed you to choose a name like that— you know what, we’re getting off topic here,” Haru said, trying to regain some sort of common ground. “Remind us why you’re here, at a crime scene, again?”

 

“And you know better than to lie, right?” Nagisa asked sweetly, and the street thug sighed, dropping his shoulders.

 

“I was here yesterday night, makin’ a deal. I dropped my lighter here, so I came back this morning to find it when I can actually see the place.”

 

“Do you always deal drugs here?” Makoto asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Naw, man, not here. I don’t know where, but I had a lump sum I needed to pass off to my boss. He told me to meet here.”

 

“Behind a courthouse no less. How ironic.”

 

“Yeah, well, I don’t go makin’ the rules up, do I?” Furusawa sighed. “We were here, though, in the back alley. Didn’t go makin’ a mess at your crime scene, okay?”

 

“What time where you here?” Nagisa asked.

 

“Uh… around two in the morning, why?”

 

All three of them exchanged looks.

 

“Was there anybody here, besides you and your, uh, associate?”

 

Furusawa furrowed his eyebrows, thinking. “Y’know what, there _was_ somebody, yeah.”

 

“Who?” Haru and Makoto demanded at once, making the thug jump.

 

“I dunno, I didn’t see. But my boss might’ve.”

 

“How? Tell us what happened,” Haru said sharply. Furusawa stuffed his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

 

“I jus’ met up here, like always, and my boss was already hangin’ around, right? So I just pass over the money I collected, same old, same old, but then we heard a loud noise over by the lot. That’s when I dropped me lighter. Then, we heard laughing.”

 

“ _Laughing_?”

 

“Yeah. Laughing. Real loud. Sounded kinda creepy too, they were in right hysterics. I thought it was probably just some drunk schmuck, but then the guy popped out from around the corner and ran down that end of the alleyway. Scratched up the side of my boss’ new car by accident too.”

 

“Did you see who it was? Their height? What they were wearing?” Haru asked rapidly as Nagisa whipped out his notebook and scribbled everything furiously down. Makoto was frowning deeply.

 

Furusawa shook his head. “Too dark man, sorry. My boss might’ve seen who it was. He chased after the punk, shouting shit ‘n all. But he probably didn’t catch him; the guy’s always high as kite ‘n can’t tell hand from foot most of the times.”

 

“What’s your boss’ name?”

 

“Ichisake Karube. And for the love of god don’t tell ‘im I told you, okay? It’ll be on my head.” Furusawa shuddered. “I swear I got nuthin’ to do with this, I just wanted my damn lighter back.”

 

“We’ll see about that,” Haru said crisply. “Where can I find this Karube?”

 

“Uh, well, I don’t know what he normally does during the day, but he goes to this club called the Swashbuckler every night. He’s a big guy, got somethin’ of a beer belly, and a tattoo of a tarantula on his neck. Rowdy drunk, Karube is. You won’t miss ‘im.”

 

“Excellent,” Haru muttered. “Then that’s all we need to hear from you. You’d better get going if you want to avoid an arrest in the next ten minutes.”

 

Clearly Furusawa did not need telling twice. He hightailed it out of the alley at once, not even complaining about his lost lighter.

 

“That was surprisingly helpful,” Nagisa said thoughtfully, snapping his notebook shut. “What’ll we do next, Haru-chan?”

 

“The best course of action would be to seek out this Karube at the Swashbuckler,” the detective said, crossing his arms. “But I really don’t see us effectively getting information out of a mafia drug dealer as cops.”

 

“Are you suggesting we go undercover then?” Makoto asked, tapping his chin. “That might be a little difficult. We did appear on television two days ago.”

 

“Not when it comes to this particular club, I think,” Haru said. “It’s somewhat shady, and always dark in there. Nobody would notice.”

 

“Well… is it worth a shot?”

 

“Maybe,” Haru sighed. “Sadly, this is the best lead we’ve got.”

 

“So we’re going to a club.”

 

“Yeah, we’re going to a club.”

 

Makoto chuckled. “Well, there are worse ways of going undercover for this job.”

 

“Well, you’re not wrong about that,” Haru muttered. “Let’s check up on forensics one more time before heading back to the office to discuss a plan of action— Nagisa? Are you alright?”

 

The blond startled at his name, and then grinned sheepishly. “Ah, sorry, Haru-chan, I was just… thinking about something. Er, would it be okay if I didn’t join you guys on this clubbing mission?”

 

Haru’s eyebrows went right up. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Makoto and I can handle it, but why don’t you want to go? Thought this would be right up your alley.”

 

“There’s something about the case that’s been bugging me, but I can’t figure it out!” Nagisa said with a frustrated sigh, waving his notebook in the air. “I wanted to stay at the office to go through some files, see if anything comes up.”

 

“Fair enough,” Haru shrugged. “Text me if you catch anything then.”

 

“Hai, Haru-chan!” Nagisa said with a smart salute. “Don’t get too caught up with the strippers like you did on the Inori case!” he added, and Makoto made a weird choking noise as Haru shot his assistant a fearsome glare.

 

“I was under the impression we were never to speak of that again. Is this payback for the pink sweater comment?”

 

Nagisa’s grin was sharp enough to cut diamonds.

 

“Bitch, it might be.”

 

+

 

The problem with being a quiet, uncomplicated and a more or less unsociable life was that Haru was almost never prepared for public situations. The most memorable was, perhaps, the staff Christmas party two years ago that involved Sasabe bringing in copious amount of wine, Nagisa accidentally punching Rei in the face after one too many shots, and himself waking up in the photocopy room at noon the next day with no recollection of how he ended up there. Since then Haru had actively avoided any type of party to the best of his abilities.

 

The Swashbuckler basically fulfilled all the criteria surrounding a trashy, excessively loud and rowdy club, and everything Haru wanted to stay away from.

 

There was a small crowd gathered in front of the building in the late evening when Makoto drove slowly by, following a trail of cars that were clearly headed for the club too. They all moved slower than a funeral procession, though, because the beefed-up guys in the vehicles were too busy leaning out of their windows to catcall at girls to drive. The whole place was a mix of fashions— Haru spotted people in halter-tops, muscle shirts, bomber jackets and multi-coloured jeans.

 

He’d hardly dared to believe it, but his own V-neck with a ridiculously plunging neckline (a gift from a clearly fashion blind Nagisa) and a pair of slightly torn jeans looked almost tame compared to what the partygoers were decked out in.

 

“Maa, looks like we’ll have to park all the way down this side of the street,” Makoto said, breaking the nervous silence. Haru hummed, drumming his fingers on his knee. The drive to the club had been quiet, made bearable only by the faint music playing on the radio. This undercover work had moved beyond the realm of the office and, well, Haru wasn’t really used to seeing Makoto wear anything other than a dress shirt and a plain tie.

 

Makoto looked _really good_ in party clothes.

 

The PI was wearing a light green button up underneath a well-worn leather jacket that accentuated his broad shoulders and stopped just above his hips. The slim-fitting pair of beige jeans was rolled up just a little at his ankles, showing off some kind of flat-soled, brand name shoe. The whole getup also provided an optimal view of Makoto’s ass, because apparently the jeans must’ve been an old pair; there was no way something that tight should be allowed on anybody _ever_.

 

The overall view was even better than the Makoto wearing glasses. Haru wondered vaguely if a person could spontaneously combust from seeing a nice butt, and then desperately wished he hadn’t gone along with this ‘find the drug dealer at the club’ plan.

 

Unfortunately, it seemed as though there was no escape. The constant nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that finding Karube was the closest thing to have for a witness, and all they had to do was get in, ask a question, and get the hell out of this place.

 

“Ready?” Makoto asked, interrupting Haru’s internal conflict. It was a little difficult to see his expression in the dark, but the detective imagined it was similar to the grim look on his own face.

 

“Yeah,” he said bracingly. “Let’s go.”

 

It was stifling hot inside the Swashbuckler. The ceiling was low and the walls painted various shades of mismatched greys with splashes of neon colours and graffiti painted across the surface. There was a dingy bar pushed into the corner, and already a large crowd was gathered around it, slurring orders at two bored bartenders.

 

Even more people were crowded on the dance floor, spilling out into the lounge area, where a bunch of people was seated in sagging couches. The music was so loud it sounded garbled and seemed to seep out of the grimy walls, but those dancing found a way to move erratically to the confusing beat either way. Tacky lights blazed from the ceiling, barely penetrating through a thick haze of smoke wafting up from the many cigarettes and other substances.

 

Eardrums threatening to give our already, Haru narrowed his eyes as he scanned the crowd.

 

Look for a fat, high guy with a tattoo of a tarantula on his neck. Yeah, easier said than done.

 

Somebody rammed into Haru’s shoulder, hard, and Makoto had to throw an arm around his shoulders to steady the shorter dark-haired man.

 

“They can’t possibly have this many people in the building and not violate the maximum persons policy!” Makoto hollered over the pounding music.

 

“We’ll arrest the owners another day,” Haru shouted back, voice slightly muffled from his position against the brunet’s side. “Do you see anything?”

 

Makoto let out a snort. “I can see about two feet in front of me, and that’s about it. There are way too many clubbers.” He was leaning much too close, his lips barely an inch away from Haru’s ears, but that wasn’t Makoto’s fault; the music was simply deafening. He suppressed a shiver.

 

“Well, let’s not stand here, we’re going to get run over,” Haru grumbled, managing to slide out from under Makoto’s arm before elbowing his way through a throng of headbanging teenagers and squeezed into a booth by the bar. Makoto settled in the seat opposite him and placed his hands on the table, only to retract them instantly with a grimace.

 

“Oh, god, it’s _sticky_ ,” the PI groaned. “I really don’t want to know.”

 

A waitress in a bright orange tank top and shorts stalked over, popping a massive wad of bubble gum as she glared down at them with heavily lined eyes.

 

“What’ll it be for the night?” she asked in a monotone voice, twirling her pen.

 

“Er— two beers. We’ll open a tab,” Makoto said, and the girl scrawled something down her notepad before disappearing again.

 

Cautiously keeping his hands far away from the tabletop, Haru waited until she was gone before jerking his head in the direction of the dance floor.

 

“We should split up. It’ll make finding Karube a lot quicker. When one of us finds him we’ll just text each other. I really don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

 

“Right,” Makoto said as the waitress returned and placed two cold beers down onto the tabletop. They each took one.

 

“So— a toast? For good luck?”

 

Haru barely suppressed a snort. “We’ll need more than luck,” he said, and knocked their bottles together before taking a swig. The cold liquid burned. When he raised his head, there was a gaggle of young woman hovering nearby, nearly identical with their dyed hair and exaggerated make-up. Their eyes were trained on Makoto.

 

“Looks like you’ve got an audience,” Haru muttered, and the brunet blinked just as the first woman descended upon them.

 

“Hey,” she said with a smile. “Am I interrupting anything?”

 

“Eh?” Makoto asked, slightly startled. “Um, we’re—”

 

“Come dance with us,” another girl interrupted, grinning. “It’ll be fun!”

 

“C’mon, handsome,” somebody else cajoled, and Haru took a large gulp of bitter brew.

 

“Ah— I— alright, alright,” Makoto said pacifyingly, and the girls cheered when he got out of his seat. Like magnets, Haru felt his eyes nearly zoning in on the brunet’s ass before professionalism kicked in and made him take another mouthful of beer instead.

 

“Haru. I’ll text if I notice anything,” Makoto said quietly, and Haru barely managed a nod before the PI was dragged onto the dance floor by the partygoers, vanishing in an instant. Oddly enough, that left a rather sour taste in Haru’s mouth.

 

He can’t believe this is his life.

 

Draining the last of his beer in one swallow, the detective stood up, drawing strength from the little bubble of alcohol-induced courage before he shoved his way through the crowd as well. He left a couple of bills on the table and wandered away. Might as well be useful and try to find the guy before he went deaf.

 

A minute of searching turned into five.

 

Five minutes turned into twenty.

 

By the time the forty-five minute mark neared Haru was nearing the end of his rope. There was literally nobody that resembled anything similar to what Furusawa had described, and he wondered for a moment of the street thug was yanking their leg. It seemed unlikely though, because Nagisa was scary when he wanted to be and probably kept the guy on a really tight leash. The only explanation was that Karube simply wasn’t at the Swashbuckler tonight.

 

Haru desperately wanted to go home, but Makoto was still stuck with the same group of girls, who were getting progressively bolder with their advances. Makoto seemed to be doing a fine job fending them off, and Haru wondered vaguely if he could help, but sheer pride stopped him from doing so. Makoto was a grown man, and he could solve his own problems.

 

He had no reason to help him here over something so trivial.

 

Yet another smashed clubber ran headlong into Haru, sending the two of them stumbling off the dance floor, and the detective was ready to let out a particularly rude swear word when he noticed a man staggering out of the men’s washroom with two scantily-clad ladies in tow.

 

Tall guy. Beer belly. A rather crappy tattoo of a large, hairy spider on the side of his neck.

 

What _were_ the chances.

 

As Haru watched, the two women sauntered off and vanished into the crowd as Ichisake Karube collapsed into one of the sofas. He clicked his fingers and somebody delivered a beer. The large man took a huge gulp and belched. Haru winced.

 

Here goes nothing, he thought bracingly, and then moved to sit next to the man.

 

One look instantly told him the drug dealer was already high; perhaps not anything strong, but the thick scent of smoke and the slight flush on his cheeks were clearly the result of something other than a dirty bathroom blowjob. The leather of his shirt stretched uncomfortably over the wide chest, and Haru could see a mess of wiry chest hair peeking out from the top. Clearing his throat, he caught the dealer’s attention.

 

“Evening, Karube-san,” he said shortly, mimicking the tone of somebody who’s already had a few. Karube squinted at him in the dim light, suspicious.

 

“Who’re you?” the man grunted.

 

“I’m a friend of Furusawa’s,” Haru said, appropriately adjusting his pronunciation of words. “Came down to say how sorry I am about your car, man. Heard it got scratched up good.”

 

All misgivings seemed to vanish out of Karube’s eyes at the mere mention of his car, and the man was off at once.

 

“Damn straight! Some rude ass punk thought it’ll be funny to run right into the side in the middle o’ the damn night! Ruined my 400$ paint job, that bastard did!”

 

“Did you see who it was?” Haru asked. Karube shrugged and took another swig.

 

“S’too dark to see anythin’ at night,” he snorted. “Looked like nothin’ but some damn squirrel.”

 

“Y’know, I heard that there was a guy going around targeting nice rides,” Haru lied smoothly, drumming his fingers on the armrest. “Messed up a few of my buddies’ cars too. We were thinking if we could catch the guy, we could teach him a lesson or two.”

 

That caught Karube’s attention once more, and his eyes gleamed. “That doesn’t sound half bad,” he mused, scratching at his double chins. “Granted, it was dark, and I couldn’t see for shit, but he had on one of those varsity jackets, from sports, or whatever. Bit shorter than me, I think, and damn sneaky too. One minute all I hear was some freaky-ass laughing and then the punk came bursting out of the building through some secret door and shot righ’ past.”

 

“A secret door?” Haru repeated, frowning. “What secret door?”

 

“I dunno, do I?” Karube snapped. “If I knew it wouldn’t be a secret, innit?”

 

“Right, so, did you see his face at all?” Haru pressed. He was so close. If only this drunkard could remember…

 

“Nah,” Karube shrugged, clumsily setting his drink down. “Skinny guy tho’. Looked like he had light hair under the damn streetlight.”

 

“Alright,” Haru said, hiding a breath of relief. Now they were getting somewhere. This was good enough from a guy who could barely see straight, and he honestly didn’t want to sit next to the drug dealer for a moment longer. The man smelled rancid. “Thanks for your help, Karube-san.”

 

The man grunted dismissively, and Haru turned away, only to walk right into the chest of a large guy with a goatee blocking his path. The man was older, dressed in a similar fashion to Karube, and smelled heavily of cigarette smoke. There were two other guys hovering behind him, also heavy in build and menacing.

 

“Who’s this you’ve got here, Karube?” Goatee asked, smirking. Unlike his friend, this guy wasn’t drunk or high, and neither did the men behind him appear to be intoxicated either. One of them grinned sharply, and Haru’s gut clenched.

 

“Some friend of a friend’s,” Karube shouted back loudly.

 

“Some friend of a friend’s,” Goatee repeated slowly, as though tasting the words. “You got a name, friend of a friend?”

 

“It’s called _I’m leaving_ ,” Haru said briskly, but as he made to walk around Goatee stuck his hand out and cut him off.

 

“Now, now, we’re just having a bit of fun, aren’t we?” he smirked, and the other two guys snickered. Haru glared.

 

“Please step aside.”

 

Goatee’s fleshy hand suddenly moved towards his chest, and Haru backtracked at once. The men moved in at once, and one of the other blokes slung a heavy arm around his shoulders.

 

“Let me buy you a drink, Leaving,” he snickered, and the hairs on the back of Haru’s neck stood right up. No way was this happening now.

 

“Let go of me.”

 

“Aw, don’t be so unfriendly, princess.”

 

“C’mon, loosen up a little. No need to be so cold.”

 

Haru snarled and shoved the arm off, step-siding the thug as he swiped for the detective. “Don’t touch me,” he hissed, and the mocking smiles slid off the men’s faces. Haru’s stomach lurched; if they got into a fight, he would go down. Not because he was weak or unfit, but because it was three against one and all of the assholes nearly had twenty pounds on him.

 

But before his brain could kick-start is legs into running the hell out of the club, yet another arm came snaking around his waist, pulling him back into a solid chest. Haru nearly let out a yell until a very familiar voice hummed, “There you are, love, I wondered where you’d run off to.”

 

It was Makoto with his arm slung around Haru’s waist, Makoto who dropped his chin on top of Haru’s head, and Makoto’s long fingers that were playing with the strands of hair by his ear. It tickled.

 

“Gentlemen,” Makoto said politely. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take back what’s already mine for the night.” His tone left no room for argument, and for a minute the three guys looked ready to combust, but then Goatee let out a full-bellied roar of laughter and slapped his friend on the back.

 

“And here we thought he was just bein’ a frigid bitch!” he hollered, and the others join in the laughter. Haru bristled, and Makoto’s arm tightened minutely around his waist.

 

“We’ll be heading out now,” the brunet said simply, tugging Haru along. “Good night, then.”

 

“Bet you’re gonna have a real good night!” somebody shouted, and then there were more rowdy chortles. Haru’s face burned as the two of them hurried out of the club, no longer inclined to stay any longer. The fresh, cool night air that greeted them was a welcome gift from the heavens, but it did nothing to quench Haru’s anger. He waited until they were far away enough from the Swashbuckler to vent.

 

“What was that?” Haru demanded as they reached Makoto’s car. “What the _hell_ was that?!”

 

“Your way out,” the PI retorted, getting into the driver’s seat.

 

“I didn’t need your knight in shining armor act back there,” Haru said heatedly.

 

“Yeah, ‘cause you were handling the situation so well, right?” Makoto snapped. “Get in the car, Haru.”

 

There was a moment of internal struggle as the dark-haired man contemplated flipping Makoto the bird instead, but he yanked open the passenger door and settled heavily in the seat, posture stiff. Makoto started the car and pulled out onto the main road immediately, but his tight grip on his steering wheel betrayed his anger.

 

It was a painful ride home, and the tension burned.

 

When they finally arrived back at the apartment blocks, the detective threw the door open at once and stomped out, intent on heading home and taking his frustration out on a couple of pillows or so, but just as he made it up the stairs and opened his door, Makoto caught up and grabbed Haru’s wrist.

 

“Haru—”

 

“Let go of me,” Haru snarled, wrenching his arm from Makoto’s grasp, but the brunet pursued him, undeterred.

 

“You used to tell me not to run away. Look at what you’re doing now!”

 

That felt like a sucker punch to the gut.

 

“How dare you,” Haru spat furiously, slapping his hand against the kitchen wall to turn on the lights and ended up missing in his rage. The hall light flicked on instead, throwing the dark room into a hazy relief with the golden glow. Makoto’s figure blocked out most of the light as he stood defiantly, chin tilted up.

 

“Don’t practice what you don’t preach.”

 

“I’m not the one who left because they had emotional issues.”

 

“And you’re doing so well with your own emotions right now?” Makoto shot back scathingly, and dear god, Haru almost wanted to punch him.

 

“You gave up whatever we had back then. Don’t throw a hissy fit just because a couple of older guys thought it’d be fun to hit on me.”

 

Makoto’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment he looked unfamiliar to Haru. The glare was almost lethal, and he couldn’t help but wonder how much of the countryside Makoto remained in this man before him.

 

“I’m not allowed to get upset when those slobs were moving in on you but you can storm off in a huff when a few girls got flirty?”

 

“I didn’t need your help with those guys; I had the situation under control!”

 

“The hell you did!”

 

“You argue like a child,” Haru growled. “Get out of my flat.”

 

“Oh, who’s the one avoiding the topic now?”

 

“Get out!”

 

Makoto leaned forwards slightly until they were almost nose-to-nose, and said, “No.”

 

Haru reeled back and punched him.

 

His hand immediately stung from the contact and Makoto stumbled back, clearly not expecting to be hit. Then, the brunet caught his footing and retaliated, socking Haru so hard in the jaw the detective swore he saw stars. It seemed as though all the pent-up emotion and frustration built up from years ago had just broken through a dam, and then the two of them were launching themselves at one another like angsty teenagers. Any form of training and self-control flew out the window— all Haru wanted to do was fight until he dropped.

 

They crashed into the wall, the counter and knocked over a chair before Makoto caught the upper hand with his superior height and slammed Haru down onto the kitchen table. Haru yelled as the edge of the tabletop dug into his spine and his flailing hand smacked the brunet in the face unintentionally. Makoto grabbed his wrist.

 

“Let go of me,” Haru snapped.

 

Makoto’s tone was cold as he said, “We need to talk this out. And by talking I don’t mean getting into another fistfight.”

 

“You’re gonna get another fist in your face if you don’t back off now.”

 

“Oh, _no_ ,” the brunet shot back, almost mockingly. “You’re scary, Haru.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

Makoto narrowed his eyes, and his iron grip on Haru’s wrist tightened even more as he leaned down much too close and said, “You want to know something? Why I’m mad? It’s really simple. I didn’t like all those assholes putting their hands on you.”

 

“You were jealous,” Haru growled. “Really? What are you, a teenager?”

 

“Watch your tone,” Makoto said icily. “You’re really in no position to berate me.”

 

“I’m not jealous.”

 

“ _Liar_ ,” Makoto whispered, and then he tilted his chin upwards, brushing his lips lightly against Haru’s. The detective let out a full body spasm in surprise, and Makoto lunged. Their mouths connected awkwardly because of the uncomfortable position, and Haru squirmed, jerking his head to the side.

 

“What the _hell_ are you doing,” Haru snapped.

 

“Kissing you, you idiot.”

 

“I don’t want your damn kisses.”

 

“Really?” Makoto drawled, rolling the r as he leaned in again and mouthed down the side of Haru’s neck, languidly alternating between small bites and licks. Haru bit down a gasp and wrenched his wrist out of the brunet’s hold.

 

His brain was blank, but the tiny bit alcohol and the mass of adrenaline coursing through his veins had kicked common sense to the curb long ago.

 

Also, his pants were getting far too tight.

 

“Don’t you dare half ass this,” Haru hissed, abandoning all pretense now, and threw his arms around Makoto’s neck to drag the taller man towards him once again. This time, the kiss was significantly messier and much more desperate. Makoto chased him down, growling lowly as their tongues slid wetly against each other’s, slick and warm.

 

“Get your damn jacket off,” Haru muttered between kisses, all but shoving the garment off Makoto’s shoulders. The brunet complied; tossing it aside as Haru dragged his fingernails across the broad expanse of Makoto’s back, reveling in the feel of taut muscles beneath the thin shirt as he yanked the PI even closer.

 

The re-arrangement of their position allowed Haru to boldly wrap his legs around Makoto’s waist, and Makoto rolled his hips, making them both groan loudly at the friction.

 

“Shirt,” the brunet murmured fervently against Haru’s lips, hands sliding under the V-neck to brush against the faint outline of abs. Haru complied, stretching his hands up to yank his top off. He shivered in the cool air, skin burning as Makoto’s hands skimmed over his sides, only to pause at a spot just above his hipbone.

 

Oh.

 

“Is that…?” Makoto asked quietly, tracing the narrow scar against pale skin. It wasn’t a very long cut and it had thankfully healed over well after the surgery, but there would forever be a three-inch long, slightly jagged mark contrasting against an otherwise unmarked abdomen.

 

“It’s nothing,” Haru replied bluntly, and Makoto’s green eyes flitted up to meet Haru’s blue ones before the brunet was gracefully getting down on his knees despite his massive stature. A warm tongue traced over the scar and Haru jerked.

 

“Stop that,” he hissed, and flinched again when Makoto blatantly ignored him and pressed a soft kiss over the mark instead. Then his lips trailed lower, lower, until the brunet was mouthing over the growing bulge in Haru’s pants. Haru groaned, pushing at Makoto’s shoulders.

 

“Don’t waste my time,” he grumbled, and Makoto shot him a smirk before deftly reaching up to undo Haru’s belt, pull down his fly and tug his underwear down in one go, finally freeing his aching member. Makoto dragged his lips over the tip and Haru shuddered, his fingers gripping the soft brown locks.

 

“Hurry up,” he managed in a strangled voice, and Makoto obliged, skillfully licking and tonguing the heated skin before swallowing down in one go. Haru jerked his hips against his will and Makoto’s hands caught them before he could choke. The sheer _feeling_ of Makoto holding him down and the sight of his back muscles and biceps flexing with the strain of it sent a jolt of want through his whole body.

 

“ _Makoto_ ,” he moaned, his voice nothing more than guttural noise by now, and Makoto seemed to take that as a challenge to make Haru come as fast as humanely possible. The brunet bobbed his head, humming lowly around the mouthful of cock, and stroked with his hands wherever his mouth couldn’t reach.

 

“God damn it, not so fast— Makoto—” Haru choked out, his fingers tightening in Makoto’s hair, and then the bastard dragged his teeth ever so slightly and Haru couldn’t reign himself in anymore. Body tensing like a bowstring, he came with a shout, and Makoto simply deep-throated him in an instant, swallowing every last drop.

 

Dazed and completely overcome by a wave of aftershock, Haru barely registered Makoto straightening up, the bright green eyes nothing more than a ring of colour around viciously blow pupils, and by god if that’s not the hottest sight he’s ever seen before. Catching sight of where Makoto’s hand was now only made things better.

 

Pushing himself up on his elbows, Haru batted Makoto’s hand aside and wrapped his own around the brunet’s length and began jerking him off in quick, smooth movements. Makoto groaned low in his throat, his back arching ever so slightly, his hands clenching into fists. Haru felt a smidge of smugness as he tugged the other down for a lazy kiss consisting mostly of tongues. Makoto’s dick gave a rather interested twitch, and Haru increased his speed, smirking when the brunet hissed.

 

“Fuck, Haru, your _hands_ —”

 

“C’mon,” Haru whispered, dropping his head so that he could mouth along Makoto’s pulse point. “Come for me.”

 

Makoto let out a strangled groan and tensed, releasing all over Haru’s hand a moment later. Intense personal satisfaction filled the dark-haired man at the fact that the other basically _came on his demand_ , and then the brunet flopped forwards, nearly tipping them both over onto the table.

 

Feeling Makoto’s breathing starting to even out, Haru mumbled, “Not here,” and pushed at the taller man until he straightened. “Just get in the bed. I’m exhausted.”

 

Makoto nodded, moving back so that he could pick up his jacket. The initial rage had been snuffed out faster than a candle caught in high winds, leaving the pair completely drained. Haru staggered into his room and flopped face first into the pile of blankets, not even bothering to change out of his shirt or take off his shoes. A moment later, movement on the edge of the bed told him that Makoto had crawled next to him, and the brunet wearily pulled the sheets over their bodies.

 

Just before Haru drifted off to sleep, he swore he felt soft lips press against his forehead and a soft sigh ruffle his bangs before Makoto was settling down, his large frame pressed against Haru’s back.

 

The flat was silent for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rushed this chapter a little bit; I’m sorry. I felt really bad for delaying my writing but a lot of work has cropped up this past week and I’m really tired and feeling kind of down. Chapter 8 might take a little bit longer as well, but I promise that I will work super hard on it. I promise the others (Rei, Rin, Gou, Mikoshiba, etc) will return to the story soon.
> 
> On the bright side, this is the first smut scene I’ve written since I started writing fanfiction four years ago. I’ve probably written over forty stories by now. Good grief, where does the time go.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous” –Ingrid Bergman
> 
> Yeah, right.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read the story! I’m on time this week! (Probably because I wrote this instead of my history paper, snort)

If he were to search the Internet for quotes on love, Haru was doubtless that he’d get over five million hits in less than a second. More often than not those quotes would be full of cheesy metaphors, pointless roundabout wording and dreamy, inspiring phrases.

 

Yet there probably wasn’t a quote to describe just how awkward the morning after was.

 

The two of them made it to the office fifteen minutes past eight after a morning of carefully step-siding each other and avoiding eye contact at all costs. The car ride was stifling to the point of painful, and even the radio Makoto had turned on seemed to wilt in the heavy atmosphere.

 

Haru felt pretty awful when the two of them walked into the room with a storm cloud brewing over their heads, startling an unsuspecting Nagisa.

 

“Er— are you two okay? And what happened to your faces?” the blond asked, staring between them. He’d nearly forgotten about the bruises; there was a discoloured mark on his cheek and the brunet’s cheekbone was swelling rather badly.

 

“It’s nothing,” Haru muttered, and Makoto gave the assistant a strained smile before reaching into one of the drawers in his desk to pull out a duffle bag. It undoubtedly contained a change of clothes usually reserved for when the PI would be stuck in office pulling an all-nighter, and not so much because he spent the night at his estranged friend and co-worker’s house after giving each other blowjobs.

 

Haru could feel his face heat up at the mere thought of that. Dear _lord_ , he was pitiful.

 

“Haru-chan? Do you have a fever?”

 

“What? No— no I don’t have a fever,” Haru sighed, pushing his bangs back. “It’s nothing. Tell me about whatever you got around to yesterday night.”

 

Nagisa arched an eyebrow, but let the subject drop. He quickly dug up some paperwork and showed the dark-haired man the compiled lists of all the graduates from the Four Islands University that had been gifted a pen with environmentally friendly ink.

 

As it transpired, there were only several faculties that gave away such an accessory, and further research had revealed that the Literature, English, Japanese, History, Journalism and Communications were the ones to do so. That at least managed to narrow down the list of possible suspects even further, but roughly fifteen thousand people graduate per year. There was still a lot to go through.

 

Makoto returned several minutes later, dressed in a plain white shirt and pressed slacks with his glasses back on. Nagisa immediately informed the brunet of all the things he’d come across, and after a short discussion everybody went back to work again.

 

The silence was _awful_.

 

When noon finally came around, Nagisa suddenly leapt to his feet and said, “Mako-chan! Can you do me a favour?”

 

“O-oh? What is it?”

 

“Since you’re the only one with a car, can you drive over to the Ramen House? I don’t feel like cafeteria food today so I’ll treat everybody to lunch!”

 

“Eh? You don’t have to do that—”

 

“I’m just selfishly wanting noodles,” Nagisa whined, tugging at Makoto’s sleeve. “The restaurant is on the other side of the city, and if I’m going to make you drive all the way there I might as well buy for you too!”

 

“But—”

 

“Pleeeease?” Nagisa pouted, almost batting his eyelashes. Makoto deflated, giving the blond a half-smile as he accepted the wad of bills.

 

“Okay, I’ll go. Is there anything you guys wanted specifically…?”

 

“There’s a buy two get one free special on Tuesdays,” Nagisa said. “Regular seafood ramen with chai tea to go! Just get that!”

 

“A-alright then. I’ll be back later,” the brunet said, grabbing his coat as he exited the room. Haru let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in, and then felt bad for wanting to avoid Makoto so desperately. What a mess.

 

Suddenly, Nagisa bounded over to his desk and wrestled the detective out of his seat and out of the room, pushing him down the hall and towards the stairs. Haru stumbled, completely caught off guard.

 

“Nagisa! What are you—”

 

“Walk, Haru-chan,” Nagisa said with a dangerous smile, prodding Haru sharply in the back. “Onto the roof, this is a kidnapping.”

 

“What the heck,” Haru deadpanned was the blond quickly pushed him up a long set of stairs and through the doorway that lead to the empty rooftop of the registry building. It was a little windy that day, and the strong breeze made Haru shiver despite his jacket. Nagisa grabbed him by the hand and quickly tugged the detective over to a set of benches set out by the furthest corner away from the door. Mostly smokers used this area during down times, but since the weather looked bad nobody was outside.

 

“Alright, talk,” Nagisa said the minute they sat down. “What’s bugging you?”

 

“Nothing,” Haru said at once, and internally winced. Such a direct answer would definitely make Nagisa suspicious.

 

The blond raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “You know, I might suck at fitness but I didn’t get into the police force purely on my pretty face. I’m an assistant in the homicide division. If I can’t hold my own in a fight then I made damn sure I could be smart enough to spot one coming and avoid it entirely. So, I can tell when something’s not right between you and Mako-chan. And knowing you, you’re just going to try and hide it until things get awkward, and what d’you think will happen to the case then?”

 

The speech was followed by a pointed look, and as much as he didn’t like just how much Nagisa had picked up on already, the man had a point. Sighing, Haru set his jaw in slight frustration and admitted, “Stuff happened at the club yesterday night. We got into an argument, and… one thing led to another.”

 

“You got into a fight with Mako-chan?” Nagisa exclaimed, surprised. “I thought the bruises came from somebody at the nightclub!”

 

“It was Makoto,” Haru grumbled, massaging the blooming mark on his cheek. “He’s got a mean left hook.”

 

“Why did you guys end up arguing? I can’t even imagine Mako-chan punching someone. And you’re usually so levelheaded!”

 

“I’m only human,” Haru said crossly. “It was… something stupid. Something trivial. We weren’t acting like mature adults on a job and the result was a banged-up face. The only upside to this whole fiasco is that I managed to get some kind of description of the suspect that could possibly be the Pirate. But even then, it’s still vague. We’re going to have to work harder.”

 

“We’re only as strong as our weakest link,” Nagisa said in a poetic voice, and Haru scrunched up his nose.

 

“Have you been talking to Amakata lately? She’s the only one around here who spews proverbial phrases like that.”

 

“Well, I was stuck in the office until 1 am yesterday night while you two went clubbing! She was nice enough to pick up coffee and some sandwiches from the cafeteria for me,” Nagisa said indignantly. “Besides, you’re missing the point. You and Mako-chan might be the driving force behind this whole operation but if you two run out of gas we’ll be stuck in the middle of nowhere. Remember how well you guys were bouncing ideas off once another? You need to sort out whatever happened yesterday night, and quickly.”

 

The words _yesterday night_ resonated strongly in his mind, and before Haru could stop himself he felt an awful blush creep up his cheeks, forcing him to duck to hide it. Unfortunately, Nagisa hadn’t been lying about being able to pick up on hints really quickly and latched on to Haru’s arm at once.

 

“Why is your face turning so red?” the blond demanded. “Good grief, don’t tell me you lost the fight and now you’re embarrassed about it?”

 

“I didn’t lose a fight!” Haru hissed. “And it’s complicated, okay! I can’t just— waltz up and pull some apology out of a hat—”

 

“Wait, what do you mean it’s complicated?” Nagisa interrupted, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t tell me something else went on.”

 

If possible, Haru’s face flamed even more, and before he could vehemently deny anything Nagisa’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.

 

“Haru-chan! Did you have sex with Makoto?!”

 

“Shut up! I didn’t!” Haru shouted back, but even he could hear how awful his lie was. Nagisa’s jaw slackened.

 

“You did it with Mako-chan? While on the job? Didn’t you have some kind of rule about not fucking while working?”

 

“I had no such rule,” Haru groaned, burying his face in his hands. “And I hardly ever date, you moron. And I did not have sex yesterday night, so quit gaping.”

 

“But you don’t deny getting some kind of intimate action,” Nagisa pointed out, and Haru had never been more grateful for the vast emptiness of the rooftop.

 

“… maybe,” he muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Nagisa stared, and then a massive grin split open on his face.

 

“Aw, look at my little Haru-chan, all grown up! I _knew_ something was up between to two of you! Honestly, you could cut the sexual tension between you guys with a knife. Don’t worry, though, you’ll definitely get the good stuff soon!”

 

“Will you shut up?” Haru demanded, smacking the blond lightly on the side of the head. “This is none of your business!”

 

“You know I’ll just find out eventually,” Nagisa winked. “Man, you two probably secretly had it for each other from the beginning. Are you guys childhood friends? I think there’s a betting pool running between some of the others about whether or not you knew each other from before. No wonder you guys are so compatible.”

 

He could almost feel the floor dropping out from beneath him, though the feeling was quickly replaced by a crippling sense of bitterness.

 

“That’s got nothing to do with being friends in the past,” Haru muttered. “I’m professional to the extent that I won’t let personal issues interfere with my work.”

 

Nagisa fell silent. Then, a moment later, he reached out and looped his arm around Haru’s in a comforting gesture.

 

“Haru, hiding it isn’t going to make it better. And don’t try to deny there’s something between the two of you. You’ve been wary of Mako-chan since before he came, when Sasabe mentioned his name. You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but at least talk to Mako-chan about it, or else you’re going to be distracted during this case. And that’s dangerous.”

 

Well.

 

He did have a point.

 

Haru pressed a hand over his mouth for a moment, exhaling wearily before tilting his head to face his assistant. The heaviness of an eight-year feud between him and the brunet had been dragging behind him like a dead weight, and he was _sick_ of it.

 

“We grew up together,” Haru murmured, scuffing his shoe against the ground. “Our mothers went to the same high school, but they weren’t particularly close. We just happened to go to the same preschool and live down around the corner from one another, so we hung out a lot as kids. We became friends. Good friends, actually. Everybody liked Makoto ‘cause he was so friendly and open. Even you guys latched onto him like eels the minute he introduced himself.”

 

“I remember that,” Nagisa said, chuckling. “I think Ama-chan asked if he was single.”

 

“Yeah, that I recall,” Haru snorted, rolling his eyes. “Later on, it turned out that my father and his uncle were both cops that worked at the same station, so we grew even closer because of that. We looked up to the two of them, and it became our dream to become police officers. But…”

 

He took a breath, steeling himself for the next part of the story, and Nagisa’s hand seemed to unconsciously tighten on his forearm.

 

“There was— an accident. With my father. He was one of the first response units that arrived on a crime scene and he got caught in the crossfire between two small-time gang members. And he was shot.”

 

Nagisa let out a tiny noise of alarm, and Haru clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking.

 

“Dad died on the way to the hospital. It was— it was my birthday that day. I turned fourteen.”

 

“Oh, Haru-chan,” Nagisa whispered, a pained expression on his face. Haru shot the blond a weak grimace before he tilted his head back to stare up at the colourless clouds drifting slowly by in the wind.

 

“After that, I could barely focus on anything. The only thing that stayed in my mind was my hope to follow in my father’s footsteps, so I worked my ass off at the Police Academy with Makoto. We both did really well, but when we graduated Makoto decided to move.”

 

“Move? To where?”

 

“Tokyo. He was offered a post there because of his grades. I was… furious. Unreasonably so, I think. At that point in my life there had been two constant things, and aside from my dream of becoming a cop it had been Makoto. He had higher sights than I did, and I was so— so afraid of him leaving me behind that I tried to distance myself from him. I didn’t want to see another person leave my life and, god, what a stupid reaction that was—”

 

“Haru-chan,” Nagisa interrupted, squeezing his arm. “Relax.”

 

He took another breath.

 

“I liked Makoto. And I was— I _am_ sure he liked me back then too. And I hated the idea of being placed replaced by a career, so I reacted badly. I made Makoto feel so horrible over it. He tried to patch things up and to keep in contact with me after he left, but I couldn’t bring myself to keep it up. So we lost touch over the years, and I think the last time I talked to him was the Christmas a year after he moved. The day we ran into him in the city was the first time I’ve spoken to him in seven years.”

 

“Jeez whiz,” Nagisa sighed, shaking his head. “That’s awfully complicated.”

 

“You’re telling me.”

 

“So… how did you end up in Iwatobi, of all places? Why not go to Tokyo if that’s where Mako-chan was?”

 

The detective shrugged. “I was a coward, I guess. I did think about it, sometimes. I was a trainee in my hometown’s station and I had to admit it wasn’t the most exciting place to be. But not long after I turned nineteen, my mother got sick and passed away. At the same time, I was also offered a post at the Iwatobi City Police, so I packed everything up and moved here. I got away from a small town full of bad memories and started new, and that’s where I’ve been since.”

 

They lapsed into silence after Haru finished his story, but Nagisa appeared to be thinking quite intensely. A second later, the blond suddenly grabbed Haru by the shoulders and cried, “I’m sorry, Haru-chan! I told Mako-chan that you were afraid to use your gun!”

 

“Huh?” the dark-haired man spluttered. “What are you talking about?”

 

“The day we went to visit Rin and Gou, you sent Mako-chan and I downstairs to get the car. And I told him how you wouldn’t carry a weapon after your injury two years ago.”

 

“W-why did you tell him that…?” Haru stared, completely bemused.

 

Nagisa let out a weak chuckle and moved back, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

 

“Well, between you and me, we both are quite aware I’m not that hot in a fistfight, right? I mean, I really did pass my fitness tests, okay, despite all that you and Sasabe like to tease me about, but compared to somebody as sharp as the Pirate I won’t be much help to you. But Mako-chan has experience, and he’s solved so many cases by himself. He really does want to work well with all of us to catch that guy, but most of all he cares about you. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. So trust him, okay?”

 

“I trust you too,” Haru objected. “I trust _both_ of you.”

 

Nagisa beamed, and it seemed to light up all of his face. “I know, Haru-chan,” the blond said softly. “Thank you.”

 

Haru tilted his head, allowing the corner of his mouth to tug upwards slightly as well.

 

“Well… that was a good talk.”

 

Nagisa laughed and hopped to his feet. “I think so too. At least you’ll know what to do now, right?”

 

 “There are a lot of things I need to go, Nagisa. Which task are you talking about specifically?”

 

His assistant winked. “Now that you’ve unloaded your past, you shouldn’t focus on making amends for what happened so long ago.”

 

Haru raised an eyebrow. “Then what should I be doing?”

 

“Making the best of the future, of course!” Nagisa grinned. “Nobody can change what happened back then, but you can choose what to do from now on. So; don’t look back.”

 

A cool breeze brushed past them as Haru sat, running Nagisa’s words over in his mind. He thought back to the day his dad died, the day Makoto moved, and getting shot in the alleyway.

 

He thought about the Pirate’s text threatening Makoto.

 

He got to his feet.

 

“I need a favour, Nagisa,” Haru said, making his way purposefully back towards the door. The blond cracked a mischievous smile and bounded after him.

 

“Yes, Haru-chan?”

 

“If anybody wants to find me, tell them I’m in the gun range for the rest of the afternoon.”

 

Nagisa’s answering smile could light up an entire city.

 

+

 

The evening sun hung low in the sky as he leaned against the wall of the building, a cigarette tucked casually between his index and middle finger. The thin trail of smoke drifted dreamily through the air, undisturbed, before fading away into nothing. The day had looked as though it promised rain, but in the end, Iwatobi had been spared from another downpour. Perhaps it would rain the day after, if he were lucky. Then things might go according to plan. Rainy days were, after all, generally sad days.

 

There was a noise, and suddenly the peaceful atmosphere of the empty parking lot outside of Oceans Athletic Complex was broken by a group of four people trudging out of the building. They were talking rather loudly, and it sounded as though they were arguing. He leaned back into the shadows of the building, attempting to remain discreet, but kept his ears perked up as he eavesdropped onto the groups’ conversation.

 

“— for the last time, brother, you can’t keep on bullying Rei-san like that—”

 

“I wasn’t bullying Glasses! It’s not my fault he was standing so close to the edge of the pool!”

 

“If I recall, Matsuoka-san, it was because you purposefully scared me that made me lose my balance and fall in!”

 

“Hey! You’re just easily spooked!”

 

“Guys, guys, calm down now—”

 

“I will _not_ calm down, Mikoshiba! This is the final straw!”

 

“Are you quitting? Good! Maybe we’ll finally get some decent security around here then!”

 

“ _Brother!_ ”

 

There they were. Rin and Gou Matsuoka, his so-called targets. He wondered if the detective had been thrown off by his choice of victims this time, or if he had any idea which of the siblings he was going to kill. They seemed quite close, the two of them, and he momentarily toyed with the idea of killing one while making the other watch, but it was quickly quashed. Such a dramatic change in his style would surely make things complicated, and everything was topsy-turvy already.

 

The group had made it over to the police cruiser now (an awful idea, really, cop cars always drew attention) and he watched as the redhead officer open the door for Gou.

 

They were an interesting development. A basic preliminary hack had revealed that the ‘security detail’ on the siblings was Seijuurou Mikoshiba and Rei Ryugazaki, a sergeant and a senior constable, respectively. There was no doubt that they were loyal to their cause and well trained, but that was all they had: training. He was better than they were. He was unpredictable. He was a killer, and they were not.

 

Flicking the cigarette aside so that ashes would fall on his varsity jacket, he walked briskly around the lot to the back of the building, where his motorcycle was parked. Strapping his helmet on, he silently wheeled his bike out and remained half-hidden from sight until he saw the cop car start, pull out of the parking lot, and then drive off towards the exit. Deeming the vehicle far enough from him, he straddled his bike and turned the key, making the engine rev. Kicking up the stand, he shot off just as the cruiser merged with traffic and drove away.

 

It wasn’t hard to stay out of sight. The motorcycle was a mode of transportation that gave its rider a lot more flexibility, didn’t require a lot of storage space and offered a quick escape. He remained within distance of the car, but even if he were to lose them it wouldn’t be difficult to guess where the officers were taking the Matsuoka siblings.

 

He knew where they lived from day one.

 

The ride was wholly uneventful, which gave him some time to reflect on his continued tryst with Nanase Haruka. To be honest, the man was perfectly brilliant. He remembered the first time he heard the news that the young detective was going to take over the case of the Pirate, and excitement had coursed through his veins as he listened to the televised conference. The man was sharp, no-nonsense and relentless in his chase. The noose around his neck had never felt tighter before, and it thrilled him to know just how closely they were dancing with each other.

 

Then, of course, things went bad. Shu Ishiguro was a rookie mistake. The man had been nothing more than a crazed fanboy, and he’d been horrified to learn how badly Nanase had screwed up his mission. To get _shot_ , of all things! And how could the superb detective have ever associated that sickly piece of trash with his infamous namesake? Either way, the tables had turned, and he wasn’t about to take advantage of a traumatized, injured man. If anything, he was a fair man. He wouldn’t cheat anybody, ever.

 

So he waited.

 

And waited.

 

And waited.

 

After remaining endlessly patient for two long years, he decided a glamorous return would be exactly what Nanase would need. The man was wasting away over piles of shoddy cases and amateur crooks while he deserved a much more challenging case.

Besides, he kind of missed the detective; they were, in his opinion, kindred spirits.

 

But then Makoto Tachibana entered the scene, and he was furious. So angry, in fact, he deviated from his own style and murdered that bitchy, stuck-up woman he’d met some time ago at a bank and strung her up for all of Iwatobi to see. He’d even texted Nanase, ominously threatening Tachibana’s safety. This game was supposed to be between the two of them— and Tachibana was the one who ruined it all.

 

So absorbed was he in this thoughts that he nearly missed the turn leading up to the street where the Matsuokas resided. Shaking his head, he made a turn, drove into another street, and stopped his motorcycle. From his backpack he retrieved a pair of binoculars, flipped up his visor, and pressed the device to his eyes.

 

The siblings were getting out of the vehicle. Rin and Rei were arguing loudly with each other, as usual, but Mikoshiba was helping Gou retrieve her duffle bags from the trunk. The pair of them chatted amicably and Mikoshiba said something that made the young gymnast blush, laugh, and then return a compliment that made the sergeant turn a vibrant shade of red. Grinning at each other, the cop closed the trunk and hoisted up one of the bags, walking the woman up the driveway towards the house.

 

He removed the binoculars and tapped his chin thoughtfully.

 

“Matsuoka Gou,” he murmured to himself, testing the words on his tongue.

 

Yes.

 

That was where he would start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. That’s it. The long-awaited unveiling of Haru and Makoto’s past.
> 
> (whispers) I’m super sorry if it wasn’t as dramatic as you guys expected… it was a pretty clichéd setting too. Actually, this whole chapter was a freaking emotional morning-after cliché; so sorry for that (´＿｀。) 
> 
> Also: cliffhanger, because I’m a shitty author like that. Sorry so sorry!
> 
> Thank you so much for taking the time to read, and for all your comments. We’re almost at ten chapters! It might even make it to eleven!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m late because I suck. I got horribly sick just as my midterm week started, and I had tests back to back for four days out of five. I nearly missed the deadline for my history essay and I had a lot of family problems to deal with as well, so, yeah. I’m sorry I couldn’t find the time to write this chapter!
> 
> Anyway. It’s time. There will be blood. The Pirate is almost upon them. Will anybody survive in the end? Whooooo knowwwws… (ghost noises)
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read the story!

(Two weeks later)

 

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

 

The paper target jolted every time the bullet passed through, rattling the metal bar it was clipped on very slightly. The noise was slightly muted by the ear protection gear over his ears and there was a slight glare that reflected off the plastic goggles, but Haru’s eyesight was good: he could tell he’d hit his mark.

 

He emptied his clip, flicked the safety on, set his gun down and pressed the button for the machine to reel back his target. As the large paper with a human outline moved sluggishly forwards, the six holes lodged in the chest boasted accuracy and improvement in a very short time span.

 

The weight of the gun and the feel of the recoil every time he pulled the trigger was still a foreign, almost alien feeling, but he was slowing getting over the sound of the gun discharging.

 

There would always be the phantom pain in his side, though. No helping that.

 

The machine whirred and then came to a jarring halt in front of him, displaying all the bullet holes that had gone through the paper. Haru reached up to unclip it, inspecting his progress as he did.

 

“It’s rare to see you down here.”

 

He turned— it was Sasabe, leaning against the wall. The Commander was wearing a neat navy-coloured suit with the most hideous orange and green Hawaiian tie.

 

“It’s even rarer for you to be down here,” Haru shot back. “Also, where do you keep finding those ties? They’re atrocious.”

 

“I have a collection,” Sasabe said proudly, patting the monstrous garment. “Anyway, I’m never down here because unlike those lazy sods hanging around the water cooler, I’m busy with work. You’re never at the range because you choose not to.”

 

“Times change,” Haru mumbled, rolling up the target. “The Pirate’s stepped up his game, so I need to up mine as well.”

 

Sasabe hummed in a neutral way, jamming his hands in his pockets as he did. He looked uncharacteristically tense.

 

“Is something wrong?” Haru asked slowly, turning to face his boss. Sasabe scratched the back of his head, scrunched up his nose, and then suddenly let out an exasperated sigh.

 

“Thought I might drop by and, well, y’know, kinda tell you that you’re doing well on this case, body count notwithstanding,” the blond man said. “I get the feeling I may have gravely offended you when I brought Makoto into the case. I don’t think you’re incompetent, Haru. Nor do I think you need someone to protect you. I just wanted to bring in some extra help for you because I didn’t want you to stress out over this. You are my best and brightest in the department, and I’ll be damned if there’s going to be a repeat of two years ago on my watch.”

 

Of all the things he’d expected to hear, a speech like that wasn’t one of it. A moment of silence passed between them, and then Haru managed a smile.

 

“Glad to know you still think I’m the brightest.”

 

“You shine like a god damned star, kid,” Sasabe grinned, clapping Haru on the back. “Now get back to work.”

 

“Yes sir,” Haru replied, just as the door to the range opened and Nagisa hurried in.

 

“Oh, Haru-chan! Something’s come up in my research!” the assistant called. “Hey, Sasabe-san. What’s with the tie? It’s awfully ugly!”

 

“Brats these days don’t know how to value good fashion,” Sasabe grumbled as Haru quickly packed up his things, following Nagisa out of the training grounds and down the walkway to their building.

 

“What’s going on?” Haru asked, smoothing out his shirt.

 

“Remember how I opted out of your undercover work at the nightclub two weeks ago because I said I had a haunch?” Nagisa asked, taking the stairs two at a time. “Well, something finally popped up, and I think it’ll help narrow down our search!”

 

They burst back into the tiny office, where Makoto was sitting behind his desk, glasses on and piles of paper scattered across his desk. He looked up and managed to smile at Haru, who did his best to return it.

 

There was still the awkward silence between them, but now they’d managed to bridge themselves through work and, Nagisa, bless him. The blond was gifted with the ability to tirelessly maintain conversations no matter what the situation. But personal problems could come later; they were on crunch time right now.

 

“Mako-chan! Drop the forensics report for a minute!” Nagisa yelled, clapping his hands together and startling the brunet. “I’ve made a groundbreaking discovery!”

 

“What is it?” Makoto asked curiously, pushing his bangs back as Nagisa unplugged is laptop from the wall and spun it around. The computer’s background was an image of Nagisa and Rei standing in front of a fountain together, Nagisa laughing and standing on tiptoe, an arm slung around the taller man’s shoulder while Rei blushed furiously as he smiled happily at the camera.

 

Nagisa pulled up the browser and scrolled quickly before coming to a halt on a page full of text and generic photos of students inside a classroom, a professor teaching, and a shot of a school building.

 

“This is the course outline for Four Islands University’s Journalism program. I have one for the Communications program open in the other tab as well. Now, the thing about these two is that they have one thing in common: the Iwatobi Courthouse.”

 

“The courthouse?” Makoto repeated, nonplussed. Nagisa nodded briskly.

 

“Yes. There’s a requirement for each senior student in his or her fourth year to participate in an internship program with any business or media industry. The idea was for them to gain real life experience. Eventually, the Iwatobi Courthouse started a partnership with the university that allowed students from those programs to work as journalists or note-takers in the courtroom as interns.”

 

“And how would that relate to the Pirate?” Haru asked, frowning.

 

“I’m getting there!” Nagisa grinned, spinning around to whip out several pages of hastily photocopied blueprints. “See, the courthouse is a really old building. It was built before the city was named Iwatobi and was used as a hospital in the olden days. The structure’s extremely complicated so some remodeling was done in the recent times, but they kept the basement for archives. And the only way to access those underground rooms was through the original stairwell system, so no changes were made to those either. Because it was a hospital, the old design incorporated multiple exits all around the building, but since its renovation people started using the main entrances instead, so there are a lot of ways to enter the courthouse that a regular person wouldn’t know about.”

 

“Unless they worked there, of course,” Haru said slowly, realization dawning on him. Nagisa beamed.

 

“Yeah! So, basically, aside from the regular staff of the courthouse and the security guards, the interns from the Four Islands University would also know how to use the exits!”

 

“And probably navigate around the security system,” Makoto added. “Or at least be knowledgeable enough to avoid being caught on camera.”

 

“Exactly!”

 

“So the unknown figure who burst out of the building that night and scratched up Karube’s car could be an intern that participated in either the Journalism or the Communications program, with knowledge of the courthouse layout,” Haru summarized. “Well, that narrows down the list significantly.”

 

“You haven’t heard the best part yet,” Nagisa smirked. “Behold, my extraordinary researching skills! Because the Iwatobi Courthouse is a place of prestige and order, they only accepted students who ranked in the top twenty of each program as interns!”

 

Haru could’ve hugged the blond; this was _exactly_ the lead they needed. With the list of suspects narrowed down to a reasonable amount now, they could finallystart closing in on the Pirate after all this time!

 

“Excellent work, Nagisa,” Haru said, smiling. “You did very well.”

 

“Of course! I’m Haruka Nanase’s assistant!” the blond huffed, planting his hands on his hips. “I can do anything!”

 

“I don’t doubt that at all,” Makoto chuckled softly, and the familiar laugh almost felt like a punch to Haru’s gut. It’d been a long time since he heard the other made that sound, which was usually reserved for Makoto’s younger siblings or stray cats. Shaking himself from those lingering thoughts, he leaned in to read the page open on Nagisa’s browser— and then noticed Rin Matsuoka’s names in one of the tabs.

 

“What’s this?” Haru asked out loud, changing the page. The browser immediately opened up to a video of several swimmers in the midst of a competition. The clip was titled _London 2012 Olympic Men’s 100 Freestyle (Finals)_.

 

“Oh, yeah, I was going through some of Rin’s swimming clips,” Nagisa said, bouncing over. “Did you know he broke his own record _and_ the world record in this race?”

 

“He must be pretty good then,” Makoto said as Haru dragged the mouse over to the video and clicked play. The frozen clip burst to life at once, the shot showing eight swimmers slicing effortlessly through the water. Rin was in the fourth lane, next to a swimmer from China and one from the United States. He lagged behind both opponents from the start, but as the video progressed, the swimmer’s movements became sharper, more concise. His powerful flip turns boosted him through the water and his arms seemed to reach further with each pull. It wasn’t long before Rin caught up to, leveled out, and then completely pulled away from the others. When the redhead slammed his hand against the side of the pool, he was a second faster than the American swimmer, and two seconds faster than the man from China.

 

“He won,” Makoto said, a note of awe in his voice. “Never mind just good; he’s _really_ good.”

 

Rin seemed to think so too, if his triumphant punch in the air was any indication. The audience was on their feet, cheering wildly, and if the laptop hadn’t been on mute Haru was certain he’d hear the screams and shouts from the fans.

 

“Well, he certainly isn’t modest about his win,” Haru muttered dryly as the Rin climbed out of the pool, breezed past his opponents, and went to grab his water bottle. “No sense of sportsmanship there.”

 

“Yeah, I noticed in some of his interviews he seems kind of… arrogant?” Nagisa said, tilting his head. “I don’t think he does it on purpose, though. He’s just naturally good and there’s nobody around to dispute him.”

 

“Still not the kind of opponent I’d want to compete with,” Haru snorted. “Let’s go back on topic.”

 

“Right-o, Haru-chan,” Nagisa said, giving the detective a salute before bounding over to his chair. “I’m running the rosters for those years through my laptop at the moment, but in about an hour or so we might get a hit.”

 

“Good. Keep it running then,” Haru said. “I’m going down to storage for older forensic files.”

 

“Oh, they’re doing re-modeling downstairs,” Nagisa said offhandedly. “They’ve moved some of the boxes to the North Building. Mako-chan went downstairs earlier for lap reports.”

 

Haru frowned. “The North Building? That place is massive. Where’d operations move them?”

 

“I can show you, if you’d like,” Makoto said hesitantly, his eyes fixed on some point next to Haru’s shoulder. There was an air of nervousness that the detective didn’t like to hear— he didn’t want to tiptoe around Makoto for the rest of his life.

 

“That’d be great,” he replied honestly, and Makoto actually looked up, looking a bit relieved.

 

“Hurry back!” Nagisa grinned, wiggling his fingers at the two of them. Haru could tell he was pleased that they were on speaking terms again. He opened his mouth to fondly tell Nagisa to mind his own business when he felt his phone buzz against his pocket.

 

Fishing it out, Haru unlocked it and pressed it to his ear. “Detective Inspector Nanase.”

 

“Haru!”

 

Haru startled at the panicked voice on the other end of the line. “Rei? Is that you?”

 

Rei’s next words made Haru’s blood run cold. “We need you! The Pirate stabbed Mikoshiba!”

 

He staggered out of his seat. “ _What_?”

 

“The Pirate went for Gou, but Mikoshiba took the hit! You have to come now! Quickly!”

 

“Be there in ten,” Haru gritted out, and hung up. “We have to leave,” he shouted to the room, but Makoto and Nagisa were already on the move, grabbing coats and car keys as quickly as they could.

 

“What’s going on?” Nagisa asked, worry etched upon his face.

 

“Mikoshiba’s been injured,” Haru said lowly as they ran out of the office. “The Pirate openly attacked Gou Matsuoka. We have to go to Oceans Athletic Complex.”

 

The others looked stricken, and they wasted no more time getting to the scene of the crime.

 

When they arrived, the entrance of the sports complex was in a state of near panic. Several rookie constables were scrambling around, trying to keep things orderly as the ambulance arrived. The area was a fairly quiet and private one, but pedestrians were already pausing mid-step and other people in the building were gathering by the upstairs windows to see what the fuss was about.

 

Makoto nearly rode up onto the curb in his haste and Haru was out of the car before the PI had fully stopped. He flashed his ID at a officer on duty and rushed towards the automatic doors just as the paramedics wheeled Mikoshiba out on a stretcher.

 

It was an awful sight. The sergeant’s eyes were closed and his face was chalk white underneath the clear oxygen mask. The front of his uniform was cut away to reveal layers and layers of gauze pressed against a gaping chest wound; the material and the ragged edges of Mikoshiba’s shirt were stained with far too much blood.

 

Haru swallowed tightly and quickly snagged a stray paramedic.

 

“How is he?” he demanded. The paramedic shook his head.

 

“Hanging in there, but he’s lost a lot of blood. The knife wound is really deep. We’re going to take him to the Iwatobi General hospital to get blood transfusions.”

 

“Alright,” Haru replied, letting the paramedic hurry over to help load Mikoshiba onto the waiting ambulance. He clenched and unclenched his jaw; the Pirate had to be nearby. They couldn’t let him off this time.

 

“Haru!”

 

Nagisa and Makoto was jogging towards him, the blond jabbing a finger at the foyer of the building. “Rei-chan texted me! He, Gou, and Rin are all waiting in the front. They’ve got supervision with them. What are we going to do now?”

 

“First, we’re going to move Gou out of Iwatobi,” Haru growled, hurrying inside with the others hot on his heels. “Then we’re going to take down this son of a bitch.”

 

The Matsuoka siblings were sitting on the couches by the front desk, where Rei and three regular shift officers stood guard. Haru was fully prepared to confront a furious and protective older brother, and he barely flinched when Rin caught sight of him and instantly launched himself at the detective.

 

“YOU!” Rin bellowed, hands fisting into the front of Haru’s shirt. “You said you’d put your best on the case! Look what’s happened now! My sister nearly got stabbed! What part of _security detail_ do you think you’ve failed? Every. Freaking. Part!”

 

Haru forced Rin’s hands off his shirt, grabbed the swimmer by the collar and violently manhandled him back onto the couch. Gou made a squeaking noise and clutched at her coat; Rei’s mouth was set in a thin line.

 

“Matsuoka Rin,” Haru began in a low, steady voice. “I have put my best officers on this job. They are not only the best, but they are also the most trustworthy. Now, one of my men is bleeding to death on a stretcher and the killer is on the loose. You will remain calm and listen to what I have to say. That is an order. Do you understand?”

 

Rin glared and bared his teeth. For a moment, Haru thought he was going to argue back, but after a moment the redhead’s shoulders just slumped a little and he said in a strained, almost desperate voice, “Can you just _please_ get my sister out of this fucking city?”

 

“That is the plan, Matsuoka-san,” Haru said firmly. “We’ll have arrangements made for her to stay outside of Iwatobi for the time being. We’ll remove you later as well.”

 

“Haru,” Makoto said suddenly, his gaze fixed beyond the window. “The press is here.”

 

“What?” Haru said, spinning around. “That’s impossible— there’s no way they could arrive so quickly!”

 

“Somebody could’ve tipped them off,” Makoto said darkly. “Rin and Gou can’t stay here.”

 

“Damn it,” Haru cursed under his breath before he turned to the Matsuokas and the other officers. “We are going to move Gou right now. Nagisa, you’re going to accompany her as of now, along with the three officers we have now. Head out on the express highway and find a discreet hotel in the next city.”

 

“There are a few hotels in Samezuka city,” Makoto suggested. “It’s only a half hour drive on the expressway and we’ve used several inns as safe houses for witnesses before, the staff will be familiar with the procedures.”

 

“Excellent,” Haru said. “Nagisa, you’re in charge of administration for that. Back up will accompany your drive. Makoto and I will follow along once we finish up here.”

 

“What about us?” Rei asked.

 

Haru hesitated. “Take Rin back to the Matsuoka residence for now. Sweep the area, pack your things, and once the next set of back up arrives you’ll follow suit. We’ll have to keep you at separate hotels for the time being, but you’ll certainly be able to move back together later. Are we all clear on this?”

 

The constables nodded grimly and Nagisa bobbed his head fervently as well.

 

“Alright, let’s get going!” Haru shouted, and everybody sprang into action. Just before Rin was quickly ushered out the back door with Rei, he reached out and pulled Gou into a tight hug. His sister instantly clung to him just as tightly.

 

“Be careful,” Rin said, his voice slightly muffled. “Stay with these guys and keep both eyes open.”

 

“I know. You too, brother. Please stay safe.”

 

They parted, and Rin quickly left the building. Just as Haru was about to leave as well, Gou suddenly caught his arm.

 

“Nanase-san? Is— Is Mikoshiba-san going to be alright?” she asked, her expression miserable. Haru knew she was beating herself up internally; Mikoshiba had taken the knife for her.

 

“He’ll be alright,” he replied reassuringly. “Mikoshiba’s a tough guy. He’ll pull through.”

 

Gou took a breath and nodded with tears in her eyes, but she remained composed.

 

“Thank you, Nanase-san,” she said before hurrying outside after Nagisa and the officers, where a car was already waiting. Haru watched her go, and his mind momentarily wandered— why did something feel so off about the whole situation?

 

“Haru?” Makoto called, jolting the detective out of his reverie. “C’mon, let’s get the car.”

 

“Right,” Haru murmured, picking up his pace as the two of them exited the building and headed towards the parking lot. After giving some brisk instructions to the officers on scene to secure the scene until forensics arrived, he ducked into Makoto’s car. The PI pulled out of the parking lot and within minutes they were driving at breakneck speeds down the road. It was fortunate that it was not rush hour yet, so traffic was sparse. It was a tense and twitchy silence as they hurried on their way. Haru couldn’t help but look behind them every minute or so, unable to shake the paranoid feeling that they could have been followed.

 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, signaling a message, and he checked his screen absent-mindedly, thinking it was Nagisa or Rei.

 

It was not his officers.

 

_[Unknown Number: 267 404 9802] Hello again, Haru-san. Did you like my surprise?_

 

Haru let out a strangled noise, sitting bolt upright as he gripped his phone. How _dare_ he text him, that lowlife killer!

 

“Haru? What’s wrong?” Makoto asked, worried.

 

“He’s texting me again,” Haru said furiously.

 

“The Pirate?!”

 

“Yes.”

 

_You’ve got guts._

_[Unknown Number: 267 404 9802] I know. So does your officer. Mikoshiba Seijuuro, was it? Noble of him to take the blow._

_Stay away from my officers and the Matsuokas._

_[Unknown Number: 267 404 9802] Now where would be the fun in that? I’d be careful if I were you, though. Do you really think those siblings are safe?_

_I don’t need indulge your little games._

_[Unknown Number: 267 404 9802] Well, that’s no good at all. **Think** , detective. Put that pretty head of yours to use. You can solve this. I know you can. There’s more to this than what meets the eye._

_What’s your point?_

_[Unknown Number: 267 404 9802] Just remember: the closer you think you are, the less you’ll actually see._

 

Haru snarled slammed his hand against the dashboard. Makoto shot him a sideways glance, the muscles in the brunet’s neck taut as a bowstring, and increased the speed ever so slightly.

 

His gut roiled.

 

Something wasn’t right.

 

Everything— from Nitori to the body of the women on the ship monument, the text messages and threats— the Pirate was no longer following his old modus operndi. Actually, Haru suddenly realized, the playing field had changed long ago, from the moment the Pirate first announced his return.

 

He’d been a fool to follow the killer’s former methods. Everything had been skewed right from the very start because the Pirate was no longer killing for his own satisfaction, but for _Haru_ to chase after him, to leave a breadcrumb trail for him to catch him. It was a game now, and the rules were different: so who really was the Pirate’s target after all?

 

And then, Haru finally understood.

 

“Stop!” he shouted, grabbing Makoto’s arm. The brunet startled and nearly swerved into the other lane, earning a loud honk.

 

“Haru? What’s wrong—”

 

“Don’t go on the expressway! Turn the car around! We have to go back!”

 

Makoto looked utterly bewildered, but he quickly cut into the left turn lane and did a full U-turn, taking them back to where they started.

 

“Haru, what’s going on?”

 

“The Pirate isn’t after Gou Matsuoka,” Haru snarled. “He’s going to kill _Rin_.”

 

“What? How? How do you know this?”

 

“Gou was a distraction,” Haru explained as they sped down the road. “The Pirate’s been keeping tabs on them, despite the security detail, and my best guess is that he knew Mikoshiba would intervene. Taking him out of the picture would cause confusion and mislead us— we all thought Gou was his target. But she’s not his type; she would never be his type, she’s too selfless and strong-willed and a morally perfect character. But Rin—”

 

“He’s not like his sister,” Makoto said, his expression drawn. “Rin’s arrogant, unsportsmanlike. And out of the two of them, Rin would draw the Pirate’s radar first.”

 

“Exactly,” Haru growled. “I knew something was off! Why didn’t I think of it sooner! We just sent him back home with Rei!”

 

“They’ll be alright,” Makoto said reflexively, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “You’re going to catch him, Haru. He won’t get away this time.”

 

The twenty minutes spent racing back to the Matsuoka residence was the longest twenty minutes of Haru’s life. Makoto stopped the car a street away from the sibling’s house so they wouldn’t rouse the suspicion of anybody in the area, and made their way swiftly up to the house.

 

Neither of them said a word, but there wasn’t a need for any. Just before they reached the cop car parked outside on the driveway, Makoto reached out and grasped Haru’s hand, warm and steady.

 

Haru squeezed back, and silently prayed things wouldn’t go bad.

 

The constable in the car was a young man with cropped black hair who opened his mouth to greet them just as Haru waved him down, gesturing for him to be silent. The officer caught on at once, looking nervous as he ducked out of the car and made his way quietly next to the two of them.

 

“Is everything alright?” he asked in a soft voice.

 

“We have reason to believe that the Pirate is either here or will be arriving to the Matsuoka residence some time soon,” Haru whispered. “Did you see anything or anybody here?”

 

The officer shook his head, but he looked apprehensive. “It’s a big house. Ryugazaki-san and Matsuoka-san went inside, but they haven’t come out yet. Backup hasn’t arrived either.”

 

“Call it in now,” Haru said shortly, pulling out his gun. “We’re not taking any chances this time.”

 

The officer nodded and hurried to his car. Makoto took out his own weapon as well, his sleeves rolled up and his expression steely. Together, they took steady steps up the path and checked the front door. It was unlocked.

 

The atmosphere in the house was suffocating. Everything was strangely still after the mess of paramedics and police cars at the sports centre, but as Haru advanced slowly through the foyer, he could hear faint sounds coming from around the house.

 

Silently, they made their way down the hall, footsteps cushioned by the carpet, and then slipped into the living room.

 

Rei was lying face down on the floor, blood seeping from his torso.

 

Haru’s stomach turned over, and for a second he stood frozen before instincts kicked in and he dropped to his knees next to the senior constable. Rei’s glasses were askew and his face was ashen, but he was breathing. Haru and Makoto grasped him by the shoulders and turned him over. Rei groaned softly.

 

“Rei? It’s us,” Makoto whispered. “Open your eyes. Rei. Rei, focus on us.”

 

The blue-haired man cracked an eye open, squinting as he tried to concentrate.

 

“Kitchen…” he wheezed. “Rin… there’s a man… snuck up on us… stop him…”

 

“We’re on it,” Haru whispered back, fumbling to grab a duvet lying on the couch. He pressed it against Rei’s wound and the man groaned softly, curling in on himself.

 

There was a small noise by the doorway and they both rounded on it at once, guns raised, but it was only the cop on duty, who looked stricken.

 

“What’s happening?” he hissed.

 

“Get him out of here,” Haru instructed quietly. “Get him to a hospital as quickly as possible. You’ve called for backup?”

 

“They’ll be here in six minutes,” the man confirmed. Haru nodded.

 

“Good. Stay quiet, and don’t jostle Rei. The wound’s not deep but we can’t risk it. Keep pressure on it.”

 

The man nodded and carefully hoisted Rei up to his feet. Rei gritted his teeth and barely curbed a groan, hunched over from pain. The two of them hobbled out the door, assisted by Haru and Makoto, and the minute they were on the pathway and out of earshot Haru shot Makoto a look.

 

“Rei said the kitchen.”

 

“We need to corner him.”

 

“Sounds good to me. I’ll go through the house.”

 

“There’s a back door around the left side,” Makoto whispered. “I’ll come in from that way.”

 

Haru nodded. “Alright. Let’s get going.”

 

“Okay. Just— be careful, Haru.”

 

The naked concern and the open trust in Makoto’s green eyes were enough to send a small bubble of warmth spreading inside his chest. The message was clear: _I don’t wand you to get hurt like you did last time_. Haru nodded, his next words nearly stuck in his throat.

 

“You too.”

 

He turned and drew his gun, letting out a slow, controlled breath. He could hear Makoto’s footsteps walking away in the other direction, headed around the house, leaving his back exposed.

 

But this time, he trusted his partner. Makoto would be there. Makoto wouldn’t let him down.

 

Haru pushed the door open and walked back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear oh dear look what I’ve done.  
> There was a quote from the movie Now You See Me in this chapter; it popped into my hear while I was writing and I really wanted to use it ;u; 
> 
> Chapter 10 is next! Thank you for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, guys! I’m so sorry for the delay. I haven’t abandoned this story, no. I’m just a total loser who can’t write. In any case, I’m sorry again. Regardless, thank you for taking the time to read the story! Here’s to 2014!

In a way, the silence in the house was the most deafening sound in his mind.

 

Haru could hear his own breath, escaping his parted lips, the creak of his bones as he walked, the thuds of each step. It sounded like a countdown.

 

He ducked in and out of the shadows of the house, slipping quietly down the hall until he reached the end of it, where quiet shuffling noises could be heard in the kitchen. Steeling his nerves, Haru took a deep breath and took a loud, deliberate step forwards into the light.

 

The Pirate was standing by the island, a long kitchen knife held against Rin’s exposed throat. The swimmer’s arms were tied tightly behind his back and he was gagged with a long strip of cloth. There was a deep gash on the swimmer’s forehead that bled sluggishly, but Rin seemed otherwise unharmed.

 

Haru leveled his gun— and finally looked into the face of the serial killer he’d been hunting for the last four years.

 

His heartbeat almost faded away in his chest.

 

“You,” he growled out, unable to stop the anger from seeping into his voice. It was no surprise that the Pirate had been under their nose this whole time, but Haru would never have dreamed that he already met the killer twice.

 

“Me,” Masutaro Asahara replied with a serene smile. The light-haired journalist from the Iwatobi Daily had a peaceful expression that did not reach the coldness in his eyes as his grip tightened around the knife at Rin’s neck. “It’s nice to meet with you at last, Haru-san.”

 

He raised his gun a little higher. “Let go of him.”

 

Asahara smiled thinly and forced Rin upwards with his knife. “No.”

 

“You’re not doing yourself any favours acting like this. Let Matsuoka go.”

 

“And yet, you’re in no position to throw around any threats, not when I’ve got this trump card on me,” Asahara noted thoughtfully, digging the edge of the blade into Rin’s neck. “So, let’s talk, Haru-san. I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

 

Haru glowered. “I’ll be very through with you once we’re back at the station.”

 

“Ah, but I don’t like interrogation rooms,” Asahara sighed, shaking his head. “Such a stifling atmosphere completely removes from the essence of conversation.”

 

“You use such fancy words. Looks like somebody really did graduate top of their class in University. I’m not wrong about that, am I?”

 

“Oh, good,” Asahara said, brightening. “I knew you were capable, Haru-san. You did figure out my true target and came racing back. But then again, you were wrong at the start.”

 

“I assure you I won’t make the same mistake again.”

 

“We’ll see,” Asahara grinned. “Did you find Rei Ryugazaki?”

 

Haru glared. “If anything happens to Rei, it’s not me you’ll have to answer to.”

 

Asahara scoffed. “Who, your little blond assistant who’s got a thing for the cop? Sorry, Haru-san, but he’s not even in our league.”

 

“Don’t speak as though we’re the same,” Haru gritted out.

 

“Oh, but we _are_ ,” Asaraha interrupted, his face twisting slightly in offence. “We’re much more alike than you think, Haru-san. I’m sure you’re interested in my story.”

 

“Not in the slightest.”

 

“No, we’re going to talk,” Asahara snapped, his voice suddenly harsh. “Nobody likes an unfinished story. So let me tell you about a little boy, who lived peacefully with his mother and father. But one day, the boy’s father got into an accident at his workplace because the money-hogging, irresponsible owner of the company wanted to save money and cut corners on the safety features when he himself was already swimming in money. And guess what happens afterwards?”

 

“Humor me,” Haru growled, and Asahara curled his lip back.

 

“My father, a factory worker, was caught in the machinery. It shredded both his legs and he eventually died a pitiful, painful death in the hospital. If there hadn’t been for those rich, uptight assholes trying to cheat workers, extort more work hours, scrape together every last cent for themselves, none of that would have happened. My family didn’t even get insurance from the incident; all these corporations and companies are interconnected. They won’t sell out one of their own. My mother worked herself into an early grave because of this, and I _suffered_ for it.”

 

“I don’t see your point in this story,” Haru cut in, glancing discreetly at the direction of the kitchen window. Where was Makoto? He could only stall for so long.

 

“Point is, Haru-san, we’re both victims of circumstances,” Asahara answered in a patronizingly patient voice. He pressed the knife tighter against Rin’s neck, and the swimmer let out a muffled hiss.

 

“I am not a victim of anything,” Haru retorted. “You, on the other hand, murdered a lot of innocent people.”

 

“Those bastards were never innocent!” Asahara roared, and his voice was like a canon shot in the house. “Those rich bastards only ever cared for themselves. I’m doing the world a favour by getting rid of them, believe me.”

 

“The only thing you’re doing is creating more dead bodies,” Haru argued. The house creaked ominously, but he ploughed on. “You’ve got an awfully delusional sense of justice. What do you hope to achieve by yourself, killing people? You’re doing exactly what those money-hoggers are doing, just in a more direct way.”

 

“I am not!” Asahara shouted. “I am not, and you of all people should now that. I looked you up, Haru-san, I did. It’s a compelling and sympathetic life story you have. Your suffering and loneliness was a result of criminals as well, or did you forget how your father died?”

 

“Enough,” Haru said, and in the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow creeping up on the wall a little ways behind the Pirate. His stomach clenched, and then Makoto stealthily appeared from around the corner.

 

“We’re the same,” Asahara whispered, his voice trembling slightly. His eyes gleamed brightly— he looked frighteningly unstable. “We’re the same, you and I. Both lost boys, both smart, both dedicated to their fields. We don’t need anybody by our side, least of all assistants or helpers. You can do so much better than those poor excuses of officers and detectives working with you, Haru-san. You just need to break away from them and embrace solitary.”

 

Makoto took a soft step forward, his gun raised.

 

Rin’s chest rose up and down, his breaths uneven.

 

Haru shook his head.

 

“No,” he answered quietly. “I’m not like you. I don’t look for revenge. I may have held ridiculous grudges in the past, but I learned to look beyond that by the very people you called weak. Associates, partners, _friends_ , they’re important to me in a way you won’t understand. Now for the last time, Asahara. Release. Matsuoka. _Now_.”

 

The Pirate took a shuddering breath and backed up, tugging Rin along. Haru advanced, his throat tight, and Makoto moved swiftly forwards to compensate—

 

And then, the uneven floorboard creaked.

 

Asahara’s eyes bulged, and Haru lunged.

 

Asahara violently shoved Rin off him, sending the redhead crashing into Haru. As the two of them collided into the edge of the countertop, Makoto bolted headlong into Asahara as the man spun around with a yell and violently thrust his knife into Makoto’s chest.

 

There was a horrifying moment where time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl. Rin slid to the floor as all the strength left Haru’s arms. Makoto’s eyes went wide, his lips slightly parted in a soft exhale, and Asahara’s whole body seemed to vibrate with unrestrained energy.

 

Then, the serial killer twisted his knife and tore it back out in a splatter of red, and Makoto crumpled to the floor.

 

Haru raised his gun and fired.

 

The resounding _bang_ deafened him in the enclosed space. The bullet cut through the air and struck Asahara through the head just as he was turning around to face the detective. The light-haired man collapsed instantly, eyes rolling up into his head as he dropped. Haru didn’t know why the journalist had decided to face him again— was it to gloat? To taunt him even more?

 

But he wouldn’t know anymore.

 

The Pirate was dead.

 

Legs like lead, Haru staggered forwards and grabbed his partner. “Makoto,” he stammered, voice shaking beyond control. “No, no, no, _no_ —”

 

The brunet’s head lolled from side to side, his body a dead weight in Haru’s arms. The wet, rattling noise and the gaping wound in the Private Investigator’s chest confirmed his worst fears: it was a punctured lung. Haru swallowed hard, forcing bile back down his throat.

 

“No,” he said again, his voice hardly above a whisper, and his hands seemed to move on their own as they pressed against the wound, barely helping stem the blood bubbling sluggishly out.

 

“Mrrrf!” Rin mumbled, dropping to the floor next to Haru. The redhead shook his head aggressively and finally slipped the gag off.

 

“Plastic wrap,” Rin panted. “In the draw above your head. Cover the wound, quickly.”

 

With shaking hands, Haru scrambled to yank the drawer open. He shifted through papers, cutlery and paper towels before locating the rolled up wrap. Tearing a sizeable section off, he pressed it over Makoto’s chest again. His hands were already soaked with blood.

 

“Can you untie me?” Rin asked unsteadily. “Just yank on the string, it’s not that tight.”

 

Almost robotically, Haru lifted a hand and tugged hard on the rope with numb fingers. After a few tries, it slipped off Rin’s wrists and the redhead straightened himself.

 

“Call an ambulance,” Haru said, his own voice sounding very far away. “Quick. Do it now.”

 

“I know,” Rin said, stumbling away from the two of them as he grabbed the cordless phone with trembling hands. Haru pressed harder on the wound, barely holding back a moan of fear.

 

“Makoto,” he whispered, and his voice cracked pitifully. The brunet lying on the cold tiled floor was pale and limp— almost lifeless. It terrified Haru. “Makoto, please, please, you have to hang in there. Don’t leave me alone. Please, Makoto, stay with me… stay with me.”

 

_Don’t leave me behind again_.

 

He couldn’t take his eyes off his friend. There was far too much red. Some time must’ve passed, because the next thing Haru knew hands were reaching out to him and pulling him away from Makoto. He fought them, fumbling at first, then harshly, twisting this way and that in his resistance. He vaguely recognized his mouth forming Makoto’s name, and then Nagisa’s disheveled blond hair obscured his view as his assistant forced him back with surprisingly impressive strength.

 

“Haru-chan, you have to let Mako-chan go,” Nagisa sobbed, pushing Haru right out of the front door. The street was lined up with police cars, ambulences and officers along with a crowd of curious neighbours hovering beyond the yellow tape. “Haru-chan, please, please, please calm down, don’t hurt yourself—”

 

The sun was beginning to set. It painted the sky with a brilliant mix of red, orange and yellow, streaking over the wisps of clouds in the horizon. He made a pained, hurt noise on the back of his throat. Makoto, where was he now?

 

“Nagisa,” Haru choked out, reaching out a bloody hand to grasp his friend’s shoulder. “Nagisa, I’m going to pass out right now.”

 

The blond looked up with watery eyes, and then wiped at something running down Haru’s face.

 

Tears.

 

He was crying.

 

“It’s okay, Haru-chan,” Nagisa said, his voice muffled in the remnants of Haru’s consciousness. “I’ve got you.”

 

The last thing he remembered was pitching forwards and the sight of the ground rushing up towards him, but arms wrapped around him before he could hit the pavement as everything faded to black.

 

+

 

Waking up in a hospital generally wasn’t a good sign of one’s health.

 

Waking up to your esteemed boss reading _The Avid Knitter’s Patterns Magazine_ at your bedside probably wasn’t something that happened often either.

 

“Sasabe?” Haru asked, and winced at the hoarseness of his voice. The Commander looked up, surprised.

 

“Oh, good. You’re awake.”

 

“Where am I?” Haru groaned, rubbing at his eyes. They felt gritty and frankly quite disgusting.

 

“The Iwatobi General Hospital,” Sasabe answered, folding down the corner of the magazine. “You’ve been asleep since yesterday. I thought I’d pop by this afternoon to check up on you, but I became ensnared by this fascinating magazine.”

 

“You don’t knit,” Haru deadpanned, sitting up gingerly. His head ached, his mouth was dry, but otherwise nothing else felt out of place. “What day is it?”

 

“The 11th,” Sasabe answered, picking up the water pitcher and a plastic cup. “It’s fifteen minutes past noon. I recommend you drink a bit of water, but avoid the Jell-O at all costs. Tastes likes liver, in my opinion.”

 

“Right,” Haru mumbled, accepting the drink. “What’s happened while I was out?”

 

“Well, they’ve removed Masutaro Asahara’s body from the Matsuoka residence. Rin-san stayed overnight at the hospital as well, just to ensure he didn’t get a concussion, and his sister came to visit. He was discharged this morning, and Nagisa has arranged for them to stay at a nearby hotel. Rei’s doing alright as well, just resting up here. Meanwhile, Makoto’s in intensive care at the moment, but he’ll be moved out soon. The wound was large, but no longer life-threatening.” Sasabe shot Haru a faint smile. “He’ll be okay.”

 

Relief like he hadn’t known before crushed him with staggering force, and Haru simply nodded, his throat tight.

 

“It’s unprofessional of me to ask of this, but can I go see him? Makoto?”

 

“I don’t see why not,” Sasabe shrugged, grinning a little. “You did just nab one of Iwatobi’s most dangerous serial killers, if I’m not mistaken. I think you need a bit of a break. The nurses told me you’re almost underweight, you know? Grab a proper meal before you leave for home, and come into work tomorrow. Nagisa’s handling the press and write-up like a champ, so don’t you worry.”

 

“Right,” Haru nodded, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and jabbed the button for the nurse. After a quick check up and deemed as healthy as he could be in his current state (a lecture on proper nutrient intake was also included) Haru changed into a fresh set of clothes Nagisa had dropped off last night. He ducked into the bathroom to freshen up and almost winced at the sight of his face. Dark eye bags hung under his eyes and his skin was a ghastly white.

 

“This way,” Sasabe said, leading Haru upstairs, down several halls, and finally into a quieter section of the hospital. People shuffled past them, all of them looking tired and downtrodden. Haru swallowed, and Sasabe snagged a nurse to open up the door for Makoto’s room.

 

The Private Investigator looked— peaceful.

 

It was a strange way to describe him, but that what the only thought that passed through Haru’s mind at the moment. Makoto was even paler than he was, had a bunch of tubes stuck in his arms, layers of bandages over his chest, a heart monitor clipped to his finger and a plastic oxygen mask obscuring his nose and mouth, but he no longer looked like the limp, bleeding man lying on the floor of the Matsuoka residence. Sasabe held the door open for him as Haru took a step forwards, slowly and hesitantly until he reached the brunet’s bedside. Haru gently curled his hand around Makoto’s, feeling his chest constrict.

 

“You idiot,” he said quietly, squeezing Makoto’s hand as he reached up to brush a couple strands off soft hair aside. “You better wake up soon. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

 

Makoto didn’t move, but the heart monitor’s steady _beeps_ were, if anything, good enough to ensure Haru of his friend’s continued survival. He took another breath, and released Makoto’s hand.

 

“I’ll come back,” Haru sighed, tucking his hands away into his pockets as he backed out of the room. Sasabe was waiting by the doorway, tactfully pretending to examine the hand washing safety posters on the walls. “Wait for me.”

 

The door closed behind him with a small click, and Haru nodded stiffly at the Commander. Sasabe gave him a fond smile and clapped the detective on the back.

 

“You did good, Haru,” Sasabe said quietly. “Things will be alright.”

 

Throat tight again, Haru nodded, and gave a tiny smile back.

 

+

 

In the hospital room, Makoto’s fingers gave a tiny twitch, as though seeking the warmth that had once been around his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be the last chapter but I’d rather spend more time with the emotional writing before uploading it!
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read, once again! And thank you for being patient :’)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking the time to read!


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